


Sweet Creatures

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Animal Sanctuary, Animals, Beard Harry, Disguise, Happy Ending, Illness, M/M, Piercings, Protective Louis, Tiny Tim - Freeform, Vet Harry, famous!harry, nonfamous louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-11-01 13:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20816012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: “And what’s your aesthetic, Louis?” Harry wondered keenly.“Me?” Louis looked down at his attempt to look presentable for the night. He didn’t own smart shoes, so he’d settled for black plimsolls to wear with his own black jeans and a stretched out black jumper gaping over his collarbones; a faux sheepskin-lined denim jacket topping the lot. “Think my look is dirty little farm boy, don’t you?”Harry’s lips tugged into a surprisingly suggestive smirk; lashes blinking slowly over his eyes; which Louis belatedly realised were green now that his sunglasses were propped on top of his head. And they were kind of beautiful.“Dirty boy, hm?” He enquired, tongue poking out to lick his lips; cigarette also disposed of correctly; a stupid fact that impressed Louis. Littering was such a turn off.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All  
Thank you for being wonderful. This is my last completed story for a while; I have a few I started but haven't finished so hopefully things will come back and I can get them done.  
Thanks to Eles for being my muse and Mars for editing.  
Let me know if you like it :)  
Ang

**TV Star “Super” Vet Harry Styles, 34, has been sensationally AXED from the show which made him famous following a near-fatal car-accident as a result of alcohol abuse.**

**“Sweet Creatures”, the most popular Veterinary show ever shown on British television, was created by Styles’ father, Des, 59, and was hosted by the revered Veterinarian until he introduced his young son, Harry, to the show for his work experience placement.**

**Styles, then 16, quickly became a fan-favourite; appearing as a permanent host when he completed his higher education aged 24. Over the last ten years he has become something of a housewives’ pin-up; scores of women of all ages visiting filming locations to catch a glimpse of the long-haired stunner.**

**Styles hasn’t been without scandal, having notched up an allegedly impressive string of affairs with men and women alike; both from the industry and plucked from his hordes of admirers. Styles’ most famous hook-up was with Jenna Harlow; 45, an affair which drew derision from the public due to the age-gap.**

**A spokesman from “Sweet Creatures” has released the following statement:**

**It is with heavy hearts that we must announce the departure of the co-host of Sweet Creatures, Harry Styles. This is a family show and Magic Entertainment prides itself on creating award-winning TV whilst maintaining high moral and professional standards. In light of recent events the only option was to release Mr. Styles from his contract to continue those standards. We wish Mr. Styles the best in his future endeavours.”**

Harry Styles slapped down the newspaper onto the wooden table pushed up against the wall in his farmhouse kitchen and sighed.

He felt the warm heaviness of his father’s hand as it moved gently across his tight shoulders, settling around his arm in comfort.

“I wasn’t even drunk,” Harry whispered, uselessly.

“You were just tired,” Des echoed. “It happens to all of us.”

“I mean- where did this even come from?” He looked up into his father’s face. “It’s not like I’m downing whiskey every chance I get!”

Des grimaced and sat beside him; cupping the back of his neck over his long, wavy hair.

“They’ll just scrape the bottom of the barrel for a story, you know that.” Des scoffed a bit. “Look at all that jazz about you and girls,” he added derisively.

Harry snorted, nodded a bit.

“I suppose.”

“Never seen you with a girl,” he mused.

Harry turned his head and swallowed.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I—I don’t know what made me crash,” he shared, biting his lip.

Des nodded.

“I know, son. Maybe a break would do you good? Recharge your batteries. ”

“I think it’s best I just disappear for a while,” he added with a furrow of his brows; threading his fingers together to stare at the table; and the paper perched upon it. He let out a resigned sigh. “I just need to forget who I am.”

Des regarded him with concern.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He broached.

Harry nodded; lashes sweeping over his eyes.

“I do,” he assured. “I have a friend in Doncaster. He’s going to let me crash at his place for a while. He plays in a band.”

Des smiled, leaning back slightly and letting his hand slide away from Harry’s neck.

“I’ll expect you to come home a rock star then, shall I?”

Harry met his gaze and managed a weak smile.

//

“Fuck!”

Louis Tomlinson bustled through the back door of the farmhouse; huffing his fringe out of his eye in annoyance, his arms curved protectively around a small body.

“Liam!” He yelled, elbowing away the table-cloth covering the wooden table and accidentally dragging the cloth too hard so that the flower-vase toppled over, spilling water onto the fabric.

“What’s up, boss?” Liam strode into the room and instantly took stock of the situation. “Shit!”

“Yeah, shit,” Louis murmured. “Evie here just got dropped off by Oli. She’s been out all night in the freezing cold…”

“Well, bring her through to the clinic,” Liam thumbed over his shoulder towards the extension that Louis had knocked through from the living room into what was once the garage to create a sterile environment for his sick animals.

“No time for that,” Louis hissed. “I need hot water bottles and a syringe to feed her some milk…”

“Alright,” Liam moved to fill the kettle with water, turning it on while he fetched the required items.

Louis waited for a hand towel to be laid on the table’s surface before carefully transferring the ginger-white tabby onto it.

“Easy there, beautiful,” he murmured softly, stroking over her fur. “Come good for me now, yeah?”

Louis felt his heart break a little bit every time he brought in another little darling; each time never sure if they might make it. And his business was the art of giving animals a dignified place to spend their days, but losing the precious creatures never got any easier. Especially when they hadn’t been given the chance to _start_ their lives.

“One of these days we might actually afford heated pads,” Liam commented as he brought two water bottles over, tucked into fleece covers.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis rolled his eyes. “When the Lottery finally decides we deserve a grant.”

_Happy Paws_ had been a life-long dream of Louis’ to build from scratch. Having spent most of his teenage years in and out of hospices that cared for his ill grandmother; his mind had wondered where sick animals went; other than the vets to be healed; and then home to recuperate; or in the worst cases, to die. Where it was kinder to the animals to put them down, then the Vets would do that but sometimes there were animals that didn’t fit either scenario.

For example, Horatio the tortoise had lost a foot and his owner hadn’t wanted him any longer. Felix the sheep had gout and nobody was willing to spend time or money on his care. And Louis couldn’t just watch him be put to sleep. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. Creatures like Felix and Horatio deserved another chance. They deserved a life. And Louis was there to give it to them.

_Happy Paws_ was solely financed by donations and whatever contributions Louis could drum up. It was difficult, to say the least. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Alright, how’s she doing?” Liam leaned over his shoulder to peek at the cat now curled up around warm bottles.

“She’s okay for now,” Louis began to breathe steadier. “But we need to get some x-rays done to check on her internal health.”

“I’ll speak to Dr. Malik,” Liam nodded, moving to make the call.

//

It was Friday night and Louis was exhausted. On Fridays he liked to go straight upstairs at whatever hour he managed to finish up his duties and crash in his king-sized bed face-first; waking up only when his body was ready to.

Liam had forced him to come out, tonight. Had told him that a little socialising would be good for him and anyway, Niall was playing with his band at the pub so they should show a little support. Louis couldn’t argue with that considering the amount of leftover food Niall brought them from his pie-shop and so Louis had agreed to stay for one pint.

He was returning to his seat with his third glass and a yawn when the band struck up; Niall on bass, a long-haired shy-looking fellow on lead vocals and new guitarist that Louis hadn’t seen before.

He elbowed Liam in the side.

“Did they switch up Julian?” Louis whispered as they began to strum a tune, Louis’ eyes lingering on the new band member.

He looked kind of familiar. Like Louis might have seen him before or had a conversation but it didn’t immediately come to mind. His hair was thick, dark and messy, kind of curly and long enough to tickle his neck and cover his ears. And flop onto his forehead as he leaned forward to sing.

He was wearing dark glasses so Louis couldn’t make out the colour of his eyes, but his lips were a pretty deep pink, pouty and plush. He had thick scruff, nearly a beard and something glinted in the light; clueing Louis off to the tiny silver stud in his nose. When the guy knocked his head back to bare his throat as his body began to relax into the song; a hoop was revealed in his earlobe, too. _So_. He was a punk rocker, then. How quaint for a village acoustic band.

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Liam supplied, coolly. “Old friend of Niall’s,” he added before Louis could ask. “He’s staying in one of the rooms upstairs for a bit.”

Louis let the husky, soothing tones of Harry’s voice monopolise his attention; his tall body wrapped in tight black jeans and a black t-shirt. Definitely a wannabe rock-star, Louis mused. And actually, he had the voice to match the aspiration. He almost felt disappointed that he couldn’t be bitter about it.

“What happened to Julian?” Louis persisted, even though his eyes refused to leave the newcomer.

“Family emergency,” Liam supplied succinctly, also fastened on the band. “Had to go back to Wales.”

“Oh,” Louis nodded, sipping his pint and surveying the oddly seductive Harry over the rim of his glass.

The entire room was fixed on him; bodies not moving and eyes staring right at him; almost trying to work out his secret. Louis hadn’t fathomed it either; but the only secret he was interested in, was who Harry liked to fuck. If Louis might be on his list of likes then the night might not be hopeless after all. Liam was right, socialising was good.

“Wanna say hi?” Liam’s arm pressed into his and Louis didn’t entirely realise the music had stopped.

Louis glanced up to find the stage rushed by the contents of the pub; a group of particularly simpering females crowding at one side.

“Er, maybe later,” Louis mused, rolling his eyes and heading outside for a smoke.

//

“Um…got a light?”

Louis looked up from his frantic bobbing motion to keep warm; flicking his ash onto his thigh inadvertently. The punk rock star was buttoned into a black coat and had procured a cigarette from somewhere.

Louis tugged his only warm appendage from his pocket, lighter clutched in his fingers. Instead of handing it over, he flicked it to light it up; the stranger regarding him curiously.

“I’m Harry,” he leaned in to ignite his cigarette.

“Louis,” he nodded, waiting for Harry to pull back before pocketing his lighter. “Have we met?”

Harry’s eyes flicked to his, tongue lathing over his upper lip and catching a grain of tobacco that he spat drily off his tongue. Louis’ gaze was drawn to the beautiful shape of his mouth as he parted his lips to answer.

“I’m new to the area,” he replied.

“Oh,” he rocked back on his heels, digging his chin into his scarf. “Punk rocker returns to the prodigal home?” He posed with an amused smirk.

Harry’s lips twitched, right before he took a drag from his cigarette and he blew out the smoke with a chuckle of amusement.

“Don’t think I can qualify as a punk,” he answered lazily. “Not hard-core enough.”

“No?” Louis checked his own cigarette and flicked the ash instead of taking a drag to prolong his presence outside. “What’s hard-core, then?”

Harry’s eyes glittered a bit when they met Louis’.

“Like…dyed hair, maybe? Or shaved on one side?”

Louis let out a ‘hah!’ and reached out to tug at his thick coat sleeve.

“You might want to look into getting a leather jacket, as well.”

Harry shrugged.

“Then I’d be freezing.”

“Nobody said aesthetic was comfortable,” Louis quipped, subtly tossing his burned-out cigarette butt into the assigned bin.

“And what’s _your_ aesthetic, Louis?” Harry wondered keenly.

“Me?” Louis looked down at his attempt to look presentable for the night. He didn’t own smart shoes, so he’d settled for black plimsolls to wear with his own black jeans and a stretched out black jumper gaping over his collarbones; a faux sheepskin-lined denim jacket topping the lot. “Think my look is dirty little farm boy, don’t you?”

Harry’s lips tugged into a surprisingly suggestive smirk; lashes blinking slowly over his eyes; which Louis belatedly realised were green now that his sunglasses were propped on top of his head. And they were kind of beautiful.

“Dirty boy, hm?” He enquired, tongue poking out to lick his lips; cigarette also disposed of correctly; a stupid fact that impressed Louis. Littering was such a turn off.

Louis’ breath caught at the suggested accusation. So maybe Harry _was_ into guys. How convenient.

“I, uh, I have a place nearby, you know,” he offered. “You could um…visit,” he cleared his throat, cheeks burning in the cold and not from awkward embarrassment.

Harry looked at him for the longest moment; lips pursing thoughtfully. If he was offended by the suggestion, he didn’t show it. Louis held his breath in anticipation, regretting his courage with a twist of mortification.

“Are you um, welcoming visitors tonight?” Harry asked; hair flopping onto his forehead as he too dipped his chin to shield his neck from the cold wind.

“Only you’re invited,” Louis promised. “So, yeah…yeah, I am.”

Harry nodded and shifted, pausing with a swallow.

“Can I ride home with you?”

Louis led Harry to his truck.

//

“She hasn’t moved,” Louis looked up as Liam walked in to stand beside him; gazing into Evie’s assigned pen in the renovated barn.

Liam made a concerned face.

“Zayn can’t fit us in for another two weeks, he’s snowed under with private referrals and he’s already gotten into trouble for helping us out free of charge…”

“I know,” Louis sighed. “We’ll book her in with the local guy and I’ll put it on the credit card,” he decided, swallowing down the financial worry of that burden in favour of the sick animal in front of him.

“Lou,” Liam called him as Louis turned; catching his arm gently. “We can’t…we can’t help them all, you know.”

Louis nodded; heart sinking in awareness of that fact.

“I know, Li. But Evie is special,” he explained.

Liam didn’t ask Louis _why _this cat, out of all the cats they rescued was deemed important enough to stretch the financial limits for, he already knew that Louis’ heart was too big for his bank balance.

“Hey,” he hummed as Louis slipped back into the house to call the vet. “What about that show?”

Louis frowned; glancing at Liam as they hovered in the kitchen.

“What show?”

“The one with the miracle vet guy on it. We used to watch it every week when we were teenagers…”

“Sweet Creatures,” Louis supplied. “Not sure they’re interested in showing our shabby little operation on prime-time television, Liam…”

“Maybe not but the guy who hosts it, the one with the hair…he does all kinds of operations and fancy medical care, doesn’t he? Maybe he can help?”

Louis pursed his lips; not disregarding the idea completely.

“How do I get a hold of them?” He wondered.

Liam pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

“They’re based in Cheshire with their own practice, father and son,” Liam shared. “Des- the father- does the standard vet service and Harry- the son- is the surgeon.”

Louis nodded as Liam spoke; waiting for the contact details to pay them a visit.

//

The drive wasn’t long but all the way to Holmes Chapel, Louis had nothing to occupy his mind except for the memories that haunted him from the night he spent with Harry.

They had spent a large portion of time kissing. Louis wasn’t sure how Harry might feel about it since some guys he spent one night with preferred to keep things less intimate but once they had shuffled inside the farmhouse front door; they’d wrapped up together in the longest, toe-curling kiss Louis had ever experienced.

He had almost lost the motivation to drag Harry up the stairs at that point; considering pushing him onto the sofa to share quick hand-jobs and as much kissing as possible.

But fuck, Harry was hot.

They’d fucked; three times in total, Louis pushing him up against the wall to fuck him from behind and then later coaxing him into riding him slow and intimate. And Harry had fucked him too, in between. Had fucked Louis into the bed until his legs were shaking from the force of it.

And they’d kissed; until the sun had risen and Louis had to start his chores and he’d begrudgingly left Harry asleep in his bed with a note to help himself to breakfast and a small part of him had ached at the idea of finding Harry all soft and sex-worn curled up on a wooden chair nibbling toast when he came in for his mid-morning break but the house was empty and Louis had regretted leaving him at all.

But they were bound to cross paths again, Thorne was a small village and he was staying awhile from what Liam said.

Louis pulled up at the state-of-the-art clinic with a rueful sigh. Business first.

//

“He’s not here.” Is what Des Styles told Louis with a polite, if forced, smile.

“Then where is he?” Louis flapped his hands. “I’ve got a sick cat that needs a miracle.”

“You saw the article?” Des asked then, curiously.

Louis froze.

“What article? Is everything okay?” He suddenly panicked.

Des let out a gentle breath, eyes meeting Louis’ as if to test his worth. Louis held his gaze easily, unafraid.

“The Daily Mail printed an article last month about Harry being involved in a car accident,” Des shared.

Louis snorted.

“Well, we all know the Mail is full of shit so—”

“The Network fired him,” Des cut over Louis to announce.

Louis opened his mouth, not sure what to say.

“Then…where did he go?” He asked.

“He’s gone into hiding,” Des shared. “He doesn’t want anyone to know where.”

Louis felt his stomach sink slowly towards his feet. _Shit_. Evie would become just another number at this rate. As good as the local vet was, Louis was hoping for something _more_. And something in Des’ tone had him concerned about a guy he had never met.

“I’m sorry that the papers printed lies about your son,” he offered first and foremost to the harassed-looking man before him. “Nobody deserves to be bullied into hiding.”

Des stared at Louis in disbelief, his lips parting and no sound coming out.

Louis moved the few feet between them to hug him; rubbing his back with a soothing palm.

“He’ll come back, Doc, when he’s good and ready. You’ll see…”

“I…” Des nodded as Louis stepped back. “Of course. Yes,” he nodded, pushing a weak smile onto his lips.

“Right, I have to get off and find another miracle-worker,” Louis winked.

“Louis…” Des called him back, passing him a pen and a notepad. “Leave your details,” he suggested. “Just in case.”

Louis bit his lip and shook his head with a swallow.

“You take care of your son, Mr. Styles,” is all he said before walking out.

//

Fuck.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

The drive home was excruciating; the trip to the local vet tainted by an oppression that Louis couldn’t describe. It felt like a heavy oxygen had taken over the air; like an alien invasion was imminent or a really bad storm was about to blast the world apart.

He walked into Grainger’s, the diner, and plopped himself into his usual booth without looking, the sharp rustling of a newspaper bringing his attention towards the patron already seated there.

“Oh—sorry,” he shifted to get up, the paper folding down in the middle to reveal a certain punk rocker with the nose stud and earring; thick black frames adding a certain vibe to his usual aesthetic.

“Hi,” Harry greeted, with a swallow.

Shit. Louis began to sweat, anxiously. Now Harry would think he sat there on purpose.

“This is my usual seat,” he offered, still halfway into moving seats. “I wasn’t looking when I—”

Harry’s tongue lathed over his lower lip; something Louis remembered him doing after they kissed; skin flushed and swollen from the amount of kissing they had done. It didn’t look sore like that today; just a little dry.

“Please,” Harry rested the folded paper down, gesturing with his hand. “Join me.”

Louis had been joined with him enough times to feel the need to clear his throat slightly at the invitation.

“Thanks,” he managed tritely.

Harry watched him, head tilted. He had what looked to be an unfinished hot chocolate in front of him and to the side; a plate which bore the remnants of some kind of cake.

“Have you had lunch?” Louis asked, anyway.

“Just a sweet treat,” Harry's lips pulled into a reluctant smile. “I shouldn’t.”

“Can I buy you a proper meal?” Louis asked; because he owed the man that much at least for what they had gotten up to together a few nights ago.

Harry regarded him cautiously; biting his lip once more.

“Alright,” he agreed. “Dessert to start, I guess that’s okay…”

Louis smiled.

“I’ll buy you another dessert after,” he promised.

“That’s very kind, but this is on me,” Harry nodded to the waitress, Sheila, when she arrived to take their order.

Louis tried not to give away his relief at the gesture; internally panicking about the hit his credit card would be taking if he decided to go ahead with the tests Evie required to be treated. He could make it up to Harry the next time they shared a bed. If Harry wanted to share a bed again, that was.

He looked like a dark knight; all floppy, tousled hair and scruffy beard; his jewellery a juxtaposition to his rough-around-the-edges look and he might be tall and broad in the shoulders, but his body was slim and he was hunched over; almost dainty, really and Louis couldn’t work him out.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked openly; curled lashes lifting to reveal his olive eyes; pupils pinpointing from the sunlight venturing through the window.

Louis could lie. He could lie and pretend everything was okay but what good would it do? If Harry didn’t care about his predicament he could simply discard his words as easily as he had his newspaper. Louis may not know much about him, but he sensed something solid underneath his puzzling façade.

“Well, you know I run an animal shelter,” he began, just in case Harry had forgotten that fact after fucking him into the mattress; but the other man nodded, eyes dipping to Louis’ mouth. “I had a cat brought in-_Evie_,” Louis went on. “She hasn’t moved at all and I think she’s probably got multiple injuries…”

“Oh,” Harry frowned, sitting up slightly, brows furrowing and lips pinching. “What do you think might be the problem?”

“The vet mentioned her hips and legs,” Louis shrugged. “She needs x-rays that technically we can’t afford.”

“Technically?” Harry broached.

Louis rolled his eyes. “We’re a registered charity and not everyone wants to waste their money on saving animal’s lives…”

Harry sat back in his seat as Louis’ tea was delivered.

“How much do you need?” Harry asked; concerned eyes meeting Louis’.

Louis snorted.

“Er, no,” he shook his head. “I’m not asking for money.”

“I’m offering,” Harry replied. “How much?”

Louis flicked his eyes down him then; taking in his simple grey t-shirt and black jeans; the several rings cluttering his fingers and the cross hanging delicately around his neck. He looked like a mish-mash of people who couldn’t decide who they were that day; choosing several themes to run instead of sticking to one. And yet Louis felt the urge to roll Harry underneath him and kiss him until their lips hurt, again.

“It’s really not about that,” Louis sighed. “Because even if we could afford the scans then we still have to pay for the care,” he explained, solemnly. “And I’m not sure that we can put Evie through that without risking bankruptcy.”

Harry stared at him with a stubborn kind of look; brows drawn together and lips pressed inwards in silent frustration. Louis was half expecting him to offer the money for the whole package; silently curious as to how Harry had money when he played in a band and was new enough to town not to have started working, yet.

“I studied animal care at College,” he said, surprising Louis. “I know it’s not much but…maybe I could take a look at your…um, at Evie?” He suggested. “I might be able to help.”

Louis was momentarily distracted by his pie and chips; Niall’s home-baked goods served warm in the diner to his gratitude. Harry was holding back from tucking into his; keen eyes fixed on Louis, awaiting his response.

Of course. College training. Probably not at the level of the local vet, but who was Louis to deny him his aspirations?

“Alright,” Louis agreed quietly. “You can come and look at Evie.”

Harry blinked slowly and his smile didn’t match the gruff look of his exterior at all.

//

Harry was inexplicably gentle with Evie. Louis watched with awe as he examined the animal and talked to her in a sweet voice to keep her calm. Louis was hand feeding her, still; keeping her warm and comfortable until they could decide on a course of action.

Harry turned to him once Evie was placed carefully back inside her pen.

“I’ll pay for her scans,” Harry told him.

“How?” Louis asked, instinctively, wincing at his own boldness.

Harry licked his lips, eyes flicking away.

“I have a small trust fund that I’m using for my stay here,” he promised.

“Harry, the scans will be £200, at least,” Louis worried.

“I can manage,” he promised. “I’ve got an interview at the newspaper on Friday. They said I can take photographs and get paid for it.”

Louis stared at him, chuckling out a breath of disbelief.

“Only you could walk into Thorne and get handed a photographer’s job,” he mused.

Harry smirked.

“I happened to have a great lot in common with the Editor, Janet,” he mused.

“Janet?” Louis scoffed. “Fuck me, you sure you didn’t have more than a lot in common with her? We’re only allowed to call her Ms. Smythe,” he recounted. “Uptight old bat.”

“Not so uptight,” Harry shrugged, down-turning his lips.

Louis felt something like jealousy burn up his stomach.

“I bet.”

“I’m not into women in that way,” Harry told him; and Louis met his gaze to check he was earnest. He was and his stomach settled into a warm fizz.

“Okay, so you’ll pay for the scans and we’ll take it from there?” He checked.

Harry smiled a bit; bristles shifting on his face. He stepped closer.

“Anything else you want to show me?” He asked.

Louis gulped.

“You mean sick animals?” He checked.

Harry smirked.

“Or you know…your room again, maybe?”

Louis didn’t wait for Harry to instigate the kiss; he pressed himself against Harry’s front and cupped the back of his neck to secure himself into it; Harry's arms swiftly wrapping around him as their lips found rhythm.

//

“Want me to ride you again?” Harry asked as he lazily got to his knees, turning Louis onto his back after fucking him into the bed, again. Louis would have to stop that happening again.

Harry felt far too incredible to keep letting him win him over. He came embarrassingly fast; the sensation of being covered by his big body an unknown kink of his.

The thought of Harry riding him was admittedly hot. He ran his palms over the lithe muscles of his torso; settling over his tummy; thumb pressing gently into his hip in memory of the way those muscles flexed when he was bucking in Louis’ lap. But Louis didn’t plan for them to be more than a one-night-stand and now that they were; he wasn’t sure how to go about fucking Harry without feeling something.

Harry laid down on top of him; scratching his beard over Louis’ navel teasingly and dragging it up his body. When the sharp hair prickled Louis’ nipple; he gasped and widened his thighs.

“That’s--! That’s…oh…okay, yeah,” he melted into a moan as the painful bite soothed into a hot burn where his skin was chafed by the attack.

“C-can we be close?” He asked; swallowing as Harry kissed his throat.

Harry paused; nudged between Louis’ thighs; big body draped over him again but front to front this time.

“What?”

Louis panicked, eyes flaring and heart scattering.

“Nothing,” he forced a smile. “Let’s uh…do that thing you said,” he tried to wriggle out from under Harry’s weight to avoid looking at him.

Harry rolled away from Louis slightly to let Louis up; watching him as he fetched more supplies.

“How did you want to do it?” He asked as Louis launched himself up on the bed.

“Hm? Why don’t you roll onto your tummy?” Louis asked.

Harry didn’t roll, moving to his knees to straddle Louis once more; this time grasping his wrists to pin them to the bed with a confused frown.

“Tell me what you want,” he pleaded.

Louis closed his eyes.

“I just…wanted to-like it’s boring, I know, but if I lay on top of you then we can...you know...kiss…”

Harry slowly released him, tumbling onto his back.

“Sure,” he murmured. “I’m all yours.”

Louis shifted to kiss him, thinking he should probably ask Harry something about himself; like where he was from and what brought him to Doncaster but when they tangled together like this, sensibility shot out of his head.

Afterwards, after fingering him to the point he _almost_ came from it alone and then fucking him hard enough that he _did_ come from it, Louis gently tousled his hair and asked;

“Are you alright?”

Harry nodded and leaned up for a kiss, wrapping his arms around Louis to pull him to his chest for a cuddle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, all you beautiful people that commented; thank you so much for your level of faith in me. It honestly means everything to me to know you enjoy and even look forward to me posting!

“Mate, what’s going on with Harry?” Liam asked as Harry was leaving one morning as Liam arrived for work. Harry was wearing Louis' stretched out jumper, a slice of toast clamped between his teeth as he waved goodbye in what would appear to be an uncaring gesture. Liam had missed the mouth to mouth kiss Harry had just given him in parting.

“Er...I think our official status would be friends with benefits,” he mused.

Liam pretended not to look scandalized.

“He’s only just got here,” his friend mused.

“I know,” Louis shrugged one shoulder. “Wanted to make him feel welcome.”

Liam grinned at him, brow arching.

“And him paying for Evie’s scans has no bearing on that, right?” He questioned drily.

“Hey,” Louis frowned, staring at Liam. “It has nothing to do with it, actually,” he snapped.

Liam smiled a little smugly to himself.

“Think it’s more than just benefits, don’t you, Lou? Think you’re catching feels already...”

And Louis didn’t deny the accusation because it had some truth to it.

//

“Her pelvis is broken and two of her legs.”

“What?” Louis lifted his chin quickly as Adrian, the local vet, studied the scans.

Harry shifted slightly behind Louis, dark glasses covering his eyes and some kind of tweed cap pulled over his hair.

“We can set her limbs in plaster but the pelvis...”

“It can be done,” Harry spoke up, Louis twisting to focus on him.

“You think so?” He checked. “How much would it cost?”

“The two fractures are at least a hundred each,” Adrian explained, eyes flicking to Harry. “We’ve never set a pelvis before.”

“Fuck,” Louis ran his fingers into his hair. “This is hopeless.”

“I can do it,” Harry vouched, swallowing.

Louis and Adrian exchanged a glance.

“How?” Louis asked since his vet was playing polite.

“We make a frame out of rods to support the bones while they heal,” he described. “I used to make wheelchairs for my sister’s two-legged dog,” he added. “This should be easy stuff.”

_Easy stuff._

Louis watched him thoughtfully. “_Easy stuff_” would normally cost thousands of pounds, a custom-made brace like the one Harry proposed.

“I guess I’ll pay you off in favours,” Louis quipped, leaving out the “sexual" he’d been tempted to add.

“That works out nicely, then,” Harry said, piquing Louis' curiosity.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve signed up for a photography club to brush up on my skills and I need a human model for the upcoming project,” Harry explained. “You just volunteered your pretty self for the role.”

Adrian flicked an amused look between the pair, smiling to himself.

“Leave Evie with me to set her legs, Louis,” he stated, cutting into the conversation. “You two can head out and we’ll call you when she’s ready for collection.”

Louis waited until they were outside to pick up the conversation.

“You really want to take pictures of me?” He squinted at Harry, bemused.

Harry’s nose stud glinted in the sun as he shifted with a smile.

“Would love it, if you’ll let me.”

Louis didn’t see the harm in it, even though Harry could flee town as quickly as he arrived, Louis was too wise to know that avoiding things out of fear never worked out.

He was far more often a guy who jumped in both feet first and struggled to swim out of the storm.

“Alright,” he conceded. “Not naked,” he added quickly as a provision.

Harry simply nodded.

“Not naked.”

//

Not naked didn’t include taking his shirt off apparently.

Harry had a strange fixation with the shadows on his collarbones and Louis was too tired to argue with him as he circled the couch they’d just gotten off on, stroking each other with frantic hands and writhing bodies, their kisses hotter than ever.

And that might be a problem.

Because Louis still didn’t really know what they were.

Evie had her specially made frame and was recovering slowly and Harry was happily snapping away as Louis lolled on the couch, arms folded over his face.

“Aren’t you bored yet?” Louis lifted one arm and squinted with one eye.

Harry shrugged, long naked body looking pale and gorgeous in Louis' living room.

“Where are you staying, anyway?” Louis asked.

“At the pub,” Harry laid down his camera and nestled between Louis' thighs on his knees.

Louis frowned.

“That’s stupid money,” he accused. “Why not rent a place?”

“Not sure how long I'll be in town,” Harry admitted, folding his body down against Louis' as Louis curled him into his arms.

“Oh,” Louis swallowed, because he knew that. He'd known that for a month now, from the day Harry arrived, really.

Harry shifted.

“Is that okay?” He asked, sensing the pause.

“I just--" Louis sighed quietly, conflicted eyes focusing on the door over Harry’s head which the taller man had tucked under his chin. “I kind of wanted to take you out, maybe,” he broached, feeling awkward.

Harry stilled but then moved to prop himself up on his elbow. He traced his fingertips over Louis' chest, dipping into the cavern between his pecs and gliding through the patch of rough hair there.

“You want to make an honest man of me, then,” he teased as Louis reached up to tug at his ear stud gently.

“Look, Captain Jack, I’m not asking you to marry me,” he teased. “I’d just like to at least take you for dinner. Coffee maybe if you're feeling _really _shy...”

Harry’s eyes flicked to his, swept with dark lashes and treasured green diamonds captured in his irises.

“Coffee, then,” he agreed softly. “Tomorrow morning when I'm usually sneaking out,” he smirked.

Louis felt something like giddiness flutter over him warmly. _Enough of that_, he told his nerves. Nothing to get excited about.

//

“What brought you to town, anyway?” Louis asked as Harry blinked sleepily at him, eyes fixed to his jumper which Louis was currently swaddled in. “I don’t think I ever asked...”

“You didn’t,” Harry stirred his coffee carefully. “And I guess I'm just looking to escape for a bit,” he replied.

A bit. _See, _Louis' conscience argued. _He’s not sticking around, how many times does he have to say it?_

“And you know Niall so....”

“It just worked out,” Harry nodded.

“Good for you.” Louis nodded. “Good for _us_,” he added quietly after as their drinks were served, his words absorbed in the flurry.

“What about you, Louis?” Harry ran his fingers into his still-damp hair and smiled, dark glasses perched over his eyes and giving him a look of Jason Patric in The Lost Boys for a flicker of a moment.

Louis' breath caught, heart stopping clean in his chest.

“I’m just trying to help as many animals as I can,” he shrugged, distracting himself with his tea as he subtly watched Harry load his coffee with sugar.

He seemed to pause over the sixth packet, pursing his lips and furrowing his brows before shrugging slightly and emptying it into the cup.

When he looked up he caught Louis watching him and gave a coy smile.

“I have a sweet tooth,” he stated. “Is that a deal breaker?”

Louis knew they didn’t have a deal to break.

“Not on my count.” Louis assured anyway.

“What’s _your_ weakness?” Harry looked at him and Louis could make out the shadow of his lashes through the dark shade of his lenses.

Louis smirked, sitting back to cross his feet at the ankles. Normally he’d be stressing about spending time away from the farm but something about Harry had him wanting to dawdle.

“Punk rockers, apparently,” he quipped. “But you could probably tempt me with a pie quite easily.”

“Savoury or sweet?” Harry sipped his coffee, the milk froth coating his bowed upper lip.

“Uh,” Louis swallowed, gaze drawn to his mouth. He licked his own lips. “I think...sweet? Yeah, sweet.”

Harry pursed his lips and nodded.

“Noted. So now you know how I take my coffee and I’ve learned the way to your heart, what next?”

Louis bit his lip to curb his smile.

“Evie needs an adoptive family,” Louis broached, changing the topic away from himself.

“What?” Harry frowned, jerking his chin up. “She’s still got six weeks with the brace and then physio after...”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed. “And this weekend there’s a delivery of farm animals coming in from Birmingham. The farmer died and his breeding stock were sold but he had a pen of animals he kept out of kindness and the land is getting sold in lots so they’ve got nowhere to go. It means I can’t give Evie the attention she needs...”

Harry stared at Louis, gentle fingers wrapped around his cup, thumbs pressing to his lips and warming his chin on the warmth of the coffee.

“I can take her,” he said.

“Jack won’t let animals into the pub,” Louis warned. “They had a health and safety notice a while ago.”

“Fuck,” Harry frowned.

Louis tried to ignore the idea that had no place dropping into his brain.

“What is it?” Harry caught the change in his expression somehow.

“Hm?” Louis sipped his tea.

“You have an idea, I saw your eyes light up,” he accused.

“My eyes?” Louis stalled

Harry rolled his own eyes.

“Your pretty blue eyes. Now tell me what you were thinking...”

_Pretty blue eyes._

“Well. This is just a crazy whim of an idea, alright?” Louis hedged. “Not to be taken seriously at all.”

“But?” Harry peered at him.

“But I have the space to room you,” he murmured. “If you have the time to rehabilitate Evie.”

Harry blinked, lifting his glasses to push back his fringe, engaging Louis fully with his breath-taking stare.

“But it’s not a serious idea?” He questioned cautiously, as though the reason for Louis' hesitancy was because of _him_.

“I mean. I wasn’t sure if you’d—Well _want_ to,” he broached. “You’re this artsy photographer by day and cool punk rocker by night and I get that living in my madhouse might not be your idea of heaven, but-"

“You think I’m cool?” Harry cut in with a smile that Louis found familiar somehow. If he wasn’t mistaken, Harry was hiding dimples under his thick beard and something in his memory remembered a dashing dimpled smile from somewhere.

Louis huffed, attempting to shrug off the accusation.

“Objectively, by society's standards,” he mumbled, choosing to tackle his Bakewell tart to avoid Harry’s gaze.

“Interesting,” Harry sat back too, folding his legs.

“What’s interesting?” Louis licked crumbly pastry from the corner of his mouth.

“You are,” Harry slipped his glasses back on as a gaggle of teenage girls tumbled past.

“Fuck, no,” Louis scoffed.

Harry watched him with a knowing little smile that made Louis nervous.

“Fine,” he huffed. “Why do you find me so interesting, then?”

“Because _you’re_ also pretty damn cool, Louis Tomlinson,” he mused. “And the fact it’s the kind of cool that can’t be measured by society is definitely a bonus...”

Louis stared.

“Oh.”

“And I like your whimsical idea, by the way,” he added, leaning forward against his folded legs. Louis maybe wanted them wrapped around him again as soon as possible.

“You do?” He glanced at Harry’s floppy hair and buckled biker boots.

“I do,” he confirmed. “On a short-term basis, of course. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your generosity.”

“I can’t promise you won’t get roped in to other jobs if you're floating around,” he warned.

“Alright,” Harry nodded, upending his cup. “If those are your terms then consider me signed up.”

Harry pointed his hand across the low table for Louis to shake. Louis took it gently and sealed the agreement.

//

Harry flopped onto his back; out of breath and panting to catch up, one large hand wiping the sweat from his flushed chest and trailing down his torso to swipe away the sticky residue of his come.

“Jesus,” he squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them, twisting his head to look at Louis. And if he was meant to blink the stars from his eyes he failed because Louis could see them there, amongst the green galaxies of his soul.

“Is that a good Jesus?” Louis looked over to ask, fingers stroking at the heated burn of his inner thighs where Harry had happily scraped his beard before riding Louis _perfectly_.

Harry pulled his lips up in one corner, tongue licking the edge of his mouth.

“You were here, right?” He checked.

Louis rolled onto his side, folding his arm to cushion his head. Harry shifted a bit to share his elbow.

“Yeah but just because _I _enjoyed it doesn’t mean _you _enjoyed it,” Louis posed.

“Oh,” Harry closed his eyes and smiled beautifully, consolidating Louis’ theory about his dimples. Up close this way, they were evident through the scruff on his face.

Louis shuffled his legs, working up the courage to brush his thumb over Harry’s mouth.

“Well?” He prompted gently.

“Hmm?” Harry tucked himself a little closer to Louis' warmth.

“Did you enjoy it?”

Louis watched Harry’s lip get caught up in his teeth, eyes slitting open to reveal a tiny peek of his irises.

“What are you doing on Friday night?” He asked back.

“Bottle feeding some lambs, I think,” Louis mused.

“We’ve got a gig in the next town,” Harry said. “If you want to...You know.”

_Want to what? Fall in love even though you’re leaving?_

“Okay,” he breathed, settling more comfortably with Harry curled beside him.

Harry flicked his leg so that his ankle overlapped with Louis’, a playful smirk on his lips.

“And Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“I _really _enjoyed it.”

//

Louis tried to dress nicely for the gig. He had no idea if it was an official date or if he was just a sober ride but there wasn’t exactly a lot going on in his social calendar for him to hold back.

He quiffed his hair and put on his blue, folded cuff jeans with clean red converse and a matching deep red t-shirt that peeked at his collarbones, his sheepskin denim jacket over the lot.

Harry had travelled to the gig in a van with Niall and all their equipment so it was amusing to find him wearing a leather bomber jacket over his tight black jeans and biker boots, a Harley Davidson tee completing his rock-cool look.

Louis stuck his hands in his pockets and watched Harry at the bar for a moment before moving inside.

He was leaned on the counter, engaged with the barman and flirting if Louis had judged it right. Whatever it was that Harry had said clearly worked because the bartender poured him a free pint.

Harry turned to hand the drink straight to Niall, hesitating when he noticed Louis hovering in the doorway right away.

“Hey!” He beamed and waved, weaving through the tables to sweep Louis into a hug. It was the first time they’d hugged outside of sex and Harry smelled incredible.

Louis documented the sound his bristle made brushing his jacket, the press of his fingertips into Louis' back and the warm squish of his cheek against his.

“Hey,” Louis squeezed him quickly and waited for Harry to step back.

Harry’s eyes flicked over him, keen to take in the changes as he stuffed his hands into his bomber jacket pockets.

“Come and get a drink,” Harry tipped his head toward the bar, awkwardly hesitating before pulling one hand back out of his pocket to grasp Louis' sleeve until Louis slipped his hand free, too and then Harry threw him a dirty grin and cupped his hand instead.

“Dev, this is Louis,” Harry introduced Louis to the barman.

“Hi, there,” Louis lifted his chin, Dev’s gaze flicking to their hands, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Oh, so _you’re_ the--"

“Think we’ll order now, thanks, Dev,” Harry cut in, staring at the man pointedly.

Louis glanced between them bemusedly.

“I’m the what?” He demanded.

Dev’s gaze stayed fixed on Harry for an uncomfortable moment and then he smiled at Louis.

“Nothing,” he murmured. “What can I get you?”

“Just a shandy for me please,” he ordered. “Harry?”

Harry ordered a double whiskey, hand slipping from Louis' as Louis paid.

“Hey, dickheads,” Niall executed a running jump at them both, elbowing Louis in the ribs and stomping on Harry’s foot.

“Hi,” Louis smiled wanly.

“Why are you still wearing that jacket, Lou? Aren’t you hot?” Niall went about helping Louis slip out of his coat, hanging it up on the rack by the bar. “There that’s better,” Niall came back to straighten his top, throwing a smirk Harry’s way.

“Have you seen these, Hazza? Begging to be licked,” Niall accused of Louis’ collarbones, leaning forward to do just that until Louis shoved him away with a hissed “Fuck off”.

Harry shrugged out of his own jacket at Niall's request, tugging the fabric of his t-shirt over his torso gently.

“Haven’t got your collarbones to boast of,” he murmured, eyes clinging into the delicate shadows he'd tasted.

“No, you’ve only got a wonderland for a body instead...” Louis derided, engaging his brain a moment too late.

“My body is a wonderland?” He asked right before Niall reappeared.

“Okay, enough foreplay you two,” Niall gestured Harry with his hand. “We need to get warmed up.”

Harry merely shrugged with a careless turn of his lips, twisting to cup Louis' jaw with his hand, fingers flicking into the hair at his nape as he sealed their lips together for a long, indulgent moment.

He grinned at Louis as Niall tugged him away by the wrist.

“I’m warm enough!” Louis heard him giggle as Niall dragged him onto the makeshift stage.

//

“This is all your stuff?” Louis picked up the two holdalls stacked by the bedroom door on the upper floor of the pub.

Harry shouldered a duffle bag and picked up a pillow from the bed.

“We do have pillows,” Louis promised.

“This one's from home,” Harry replied, his leather jacket and wild hair juxtaposed with the way he wrapped his arms around the soft bedding.

“Okay, no problem,” Louis bent to pick up the big bags. “Good to go?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded resolutely and followed him, dark glasses pulled over his eyes.

//

Although Louis lived alone on the farm, he was used to having people stay.

Roger, a specialist vet, had come to stay with him for a week when they were rehabilitating Tim and Jennifer, the miniature Shetland ponies ready to be adopted and Liam often ended up crashing there when a crisis cropped up. 

Harry had quickly made himself at home in the guest room. He turned up the house heating to a degree that he found comfortable enough to wander around in his boxer briefs; forcing Louis to dig out his vests and jersey shorts to cope with the new tropical temperature.

He couldn’t deny that watching Harry waft about, bare long legs and bare sculpted torso, wasn’t a happy bonus of his moving in but their dynamic had changed. They hadn’t fucked for six days. Not a long time in the grand scheme of things but Harry seemed to enjoy tucking himself away in his room with a book from Louis' veterinary library.

Louis would find him curled up in his favourite armchair or stretched out on his sofa, sleeping or watching TV and it felt weird, somehow. Like a guy who looked like Harry shouldn’t be wasting away inside the house or something.

Louis happily let him be, cooking for them both and just sitting with him or talking if Harry was chatty.

On his seventh day, he plodded down the stairs and strolled into the kitchen to find Louis making scrambled eggs.

“Right,” Harry folded his arms over his bare chest. “Put me to work.”

Louis smiled, twisting to give him a once over.

“You sure? You seem more sloth than human, I fear I’ve been duped.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not a sloth,” he retorted, tone offended.

Louis turned the heat off his eggs and dunked his toast.

“It’s not a criticism,” he promised. “Just an observation. You can do what you like while you’re here.”

Harry had been working with Evie during the day, Louis knew.

Harry moved, unfolding his arms and approaching, fingers curling around Louis’ elbow and sliding up his arm, curving over his shoulder until they settled, cupped at the back of his neck. Harry was suddenly close, manoeuvring himself into a prime position pressed to Louis' front.

“Does that include doing you?” He asked, leaning down to slant their mouths together, letting a soft sound hitch in his throat as his feet shuffled to loop his other arm around Louis' waist, securing him firmly to his body amidst the kiss. “Missed kissing you,” Harry mumbled against his lips.

“Didn't tell you to stop,” Louis murmured back, eyes flaring open as the toaster popped.

_Shit. _

He cleared his throat and shifted experimentally to see if Harry would release him. He did, after lovingly cupping his ass cheek in his big hand.

“I’ll make tea,” Harry offered, coordinating himself to do just that.

The back door swung open just as Louis was buttering toast, a gush of cool air and Liam arriving inside.

“Oh,” he frowned upon seeing Harry near-naked and glancing at Louis uncertainly. “Am I um...interrupting?”

Harry gave a lop-sided grin before Louis could form an answer.

“We’re not fucking on the counter,” he offered gently. “Think you’re ok.”

Liam watched Harry walk toward the table with two mugs and flicked a look at Louis.

“Not used to seeing people that naked in Louis' house,” he shared.

“Thanks, Liam,” Louis rolled his eyes as he dished out the eggs equally onto the buttered toast.

“You mean he doesn’t always bring boys home?” Harry enquired keenly from the table.

“I’ll have you know that I--"

“He doesn’t even go out, usually,” Liam answered, apparently determined to smash Louis’ prowess to smithereens.

Louis glared at Liam before serving the eggs, his jogging bottoms and white vest perused by Harry’s keen gaze.

“Thank you,” Harry said, quietly. “And are you trying to convince me that this Lou, this little siren here, isn’t out every Saturday night capturing his next lucky bed partner?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Louis huffed, cutting into his toast with a knife and fork.

Harry grinned at him inanely before stuffing his food into his mouth.

“Since it seems you’ve both forgotten; I am actually present in the room.” Louis complained.

“I think it’s nice, actually,” Liam commented. “Having your boyfriend over.”

Louis froze, knife edge intricately gathering remnants of egg onto a scrap of bread, his throat tightening instinctively at the word.

_Boyfriend._

Harry wasn’t going to be around for that long. And he most likely felt cornered by the assumption. Louis was almost afraid to look up, heart thundering and gaze glued to his plate.

When his heart slowed down a little and he wasn’t clutching his cutlery with a death grip he dared a glance up.

And Liam was now seated at the table, evidently discussing with Harry the progress Evie had made.

“Isn't that right, Lou?” Harry asked him, mid sentence.

“Hmm?” He frowned, distracted by his thoughts.

Harry pinched his ear stud between finger and thumb, lips pulling to one side thoughtfully as his eyes flickered over Louis' face.

“Evie,” Harry repeated in his deep voice. “I was just telling Liam how she’s walking around her pen with the brace, now.”

“Oh,” Louis looked at Liam only to earn a rueful smile. “Yeah...Yeah She’s come a long way, already. Having Harry here is definitely helping...”

“Which leads me in nicely to the reason I’m imposing,” Liam broached.

Louis used the pause to study Harry carefully, searching for signs of his discomfort.

“Liam, you work here,” Louis mused “Not sure it can be classed as imposing..”

“It will when I explain why I’m here,” he smiled cautiously. “I need to borrow Harry,” he added in explanation.

Louis smirked.

“And Harry was only just saying this morning how willing he was to help out today...”

Harry gave Louis a long, intense look.

“I’m willing, alright,” he murmured, then turned his attention to Liam. “How is it that I can help you, Lima?”

Louis snickered at the nickname, getting up to take the dirty plates to the sink to wash up.

“Well, Goldie called this morning and there was heavy rain last night so the cows have trampled into the mud in the big field at their place,” Liam shared. “They called and asked if we could help and also if we knew any strapping lads to send them down...”

Louis turned with an indignant gasp.

“I’m strapping!”

Harry’s eyes once again found him, slipping to his crotch. His lips pursed slightly as he seemed to fight off a twist of a smile.

“I’ll help,” he vouched quickly to Liam. “Louis can stay here and hold the fort...”

Louis folded his arms and rolled his eyes stubbornly.

“I guess I’ll just stay home and make casserole for the men for lunch,” he muttered.

“Sounds great,” Harry beamed, getting up from his seat and passing Louis with a kiss to his cheek. “See you later, sweetcheeks...”

“Laters, baby cakes,” Louis muttered drily.

Harry loped up the stairs to change while Louis glared at Liam with a quick,

“Don’t say a word.”

//

The “men" returned well after lunch, both caked in mud to varying degrees and bone tired if their expressions were anything to go by.

Liam refused to go straight home, stubbornly helping Louis to complete the evening rounds at the farm before heading off.

Harry had gone straight indoors for a hot soak and Louis was expecting him to lock himself away in his room to crash so he headed to the hall shower to freshen up for a lonely dinner, wandering out with damp hair in a clean t-shirt and pair of boxer shorts he had grabbed from the fresh laundry pile in the kitchen.

He set the oven to warm up, heading to the lounge to watch the sports round-up on the sofa, only a long, lean body already filled the space.

Harry looked sweet when he was asleep, the curl in his lashes more prominent and a light flush on his cheeks. He slept with his arms wrapped around something, usually one of the cushions but he'd carried down his beloved pillow to squeeze, earning a mirroring squeeze of Louis' heart.

He was rolled slightly forward to his front, knee tucked over the edge of the couch and Louis unfolded the fleece blanket on the armchair to drape over him, broad shoulders first.

Harry fidgeted, eyes blinking open and feet tucking together cutely under the blanket.

“Wanna come in?” Harry asked, tilting his body back slightly.

“I’d hate to break up this little love- fest,” Louis remarked, gesturing to the pillow.

Harry opened up his body, flinging the pillow away over the back of the sofa.

“C’mon,” he invited simply, long bare legs parted and skimpy yellow shorts tucking snugly around his dick. His lips tugged into a knowing smile when he caught Louis' gaze lingering there but he didn’t call him on it, just waited patiently for Louis to clamber inelegantly into the space left.

“Ouch,” Louis whispered, ankle twisting. “Sorry...you okay?” He checked when his elbow slipped in the cushions, landing him heavily against Harry’s chest.

Harry folded him up in his body and the blanket with a soft growl, Louis laying tensely in his arms for a moment.

“Do you hurt?” Louis wondered.

Harry stretched a bit.

“Yeah. They worked us hard, you know.”

“I know,” Louis reached up to rub his shoulder a little. “That’s why I wanted to come.”

“Mmm,” Harry circled his stiff shoulder as Louis pressed his thumb into the thick muscle.

“Why don’t you let me give you a proper massage?” Louis offered.

Harry smiled wide enough to flash his teeth, Louis only just noticing his nose stud had been replaced by a delicate hoop. Harry didn’t open his eyes.

“I quite like just this,” Harry admitted.

_Just this._

Louis quite liked it, too. Just the two of them, limbs tangled in the sofa and soft clothes pressed between their slowly lounging bodies. Relaxation wasn’t instant like it used to be. It took time and practice. Something about focusing on someone else’s comfort somehow made things easier.

“I don’t sleep well,” Harry confessed, eyes still shut as Louis carefully squirmed to work on his other shoulder. “You kind of help.”

Louis flicked him an amused look even though he wouldn’t see it.

“Pretty sure that’s my talent,” he quipped. “Putting people to sleep. Probably go on my gravestone, too.”

Harry’s arms tightened to the point Louis couldn’t massage him anymore, Harry twisting his body to slide his thighs around one of Louis’ and grinding his hips against his thigh firmly enough that Louis felt the ridge there, nestled above the firm swell of his balls.

“Yeah, you’re really boring, Lou,” Harry rolled forward slightly, eyes slitting open to regard him intently; right before he connected their mouths in a hot and lazy kiss.

Louis couldn’t remember lazy kissing anybody the way that Harry kissed him, all heavy and deep and slow. He let himself be pinned to the sofa, thigh pushing outwards where Harry ground down against him; soft moans falling from his lips and onto Louis' tongue. He caught them and passed them back, breathy and gasped when Harry suckled the skin at his throat in biting ownership.

“Wait till Lima sees that,” Harry smiled smugly, thumbing over his work.

“He’ll definitely think we’re boyfriends,” Louis attempted lightly, eyes fixed on Harry’s face for his reaction.

A furrow appeared between his brows and a tension set into his shoulders that Louis regretted putting there.

“Hey,” he wriggled from underneath Harry and manoeuvred him around onto his back, pressing palms to the front of his shoulders as he awkwardly straddled him. “No stress, mm?”

Harry blinked.

“I’m not stressed,” he promised, making a show of loosening his shoulders. His fingers curled playfully at Louis’ knees and travelled up his thighs, hands curving around his hips. “In fact, you’re in a great position right now...”

Louis smiled, biting his lip and shuffling back so he could fit Harry’s length in his palm, through his shorts.

He ran his hand up and down Harry’s responding heat, earning a gasp from the other man as he squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head back.

“I know some great techniques,” Louis promised. “_Very_ relaxing.”

Harry's body went lax as Louis went to work.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a few days later that Louis came in from the evening feed; a damp night that was turning dark and getting slippery underfoot as he'd made his way across the field to check on the miniature Shetland ponies huddled under their lean-to.

He could make out Harry’s voice in the lounge, no answering lilt which signalled he was on the telephone.

Louis slipped off his gloves and jacket, hanging them on the back of a chair in the kitchen to dry while he reached down to unlace his boots.

“No don't come here,” He made out the soft urgency in Harry’s tone. “I know...I'm sorry. I miss you too.”

Louis slid his boots off and peeled off his damp socks, throwing them onto the laundry pile. He paused by the door, trying not to give in to his urge to listen but unable to resist.

“Yeah, of course. I love you. I’ll come and see you soon, I promise.”

Louis stepped back from the door to busy himself with making tea but a strange quiver had started up in his stomach.

Who was Harry talking to? A boyfriend, maybe? A _husband_? Was it possible that he had come to Doncaster to escape his marriage? Or just take time out from it? A trial separation perhaps?

_Fuck._

No wonder he had looked so fucking awkward when Louis had joked about _them _appearing as boyfriends. No wonder he had been reluctant to _date._

_Oh god._

Louis was a fucking fool. Had made an absolute idiot of himself, wanting Harry the way he did and—

_Telling him. _

_I want to take you for dinner._

Louis snorted, slamming the tea jar heavily down.

No wonder Harry had begrudgingly agreed to coffee and nothing more. He had someone, already. Someone he wasn’t completely done with and Louis was his rebound fling. His little distraction while he worked out his problems and when everything was fixed back home, Louis would be let go with a sorrowful speech about how it wasn’t his fault but Harry was already in love with somebody else.

_Of course he was. It all made sense._

“Lou?” Harry’s questioning voice startled him, his hands gripping the kitchen counter edge harshly as he forced his tears back by squeezing his eyes shut.

Nothing to cry about, he knew what he was getting into the second he had tumbled into bed with the dangerous looking drifter.

“You okay?” He felt Harry venture into the room, his warm palm sliding down Louis' spine and settling in the dip.

Louis swallowed and took a slow, ragged breath.

“Hurt my back lifting the feed sacks,” he lied, avoiding Harry’s gaze as he turned around slightly. “Think I might just get a warm shower and hit the hay, actually.”

“Sure,” Harry stepped away as Louis headed for the stairs. “Can I do anything?”

“I can manage,” Louis said because that was true.

He could manage. He'd managed quite well before Harry had arrived and he’d manage well after he left too.

//

“There you are!” Des pulled Harry into a tight hug at the back door of his cottage house, the dark cover of night disguising him from curious eyes.

“Hey, Dad,” Harry smiled into his shoulder, pressing his nose against the cream knit of his jumper to sniff his smell. “Miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Des murmured. “When are you coming home?”

Harry shrugged and Des brought him inside.

“Are you staying?” He asked next.

“Not overnight,” Harry replied.

Des regarded him with a thoughtful look as he waited for the kettle to boil.

“You look different,” He observed.

Harry smiled slowly.

“Figured I might as well try out all the things I’ve secretly thought of doing but been too afraid of, in case I ruined my public image.”

Des huffed a little, eyes going over his son as Harry dragged his fingers through his tousled hair.

“Well, something suits you,” he noted.

Harry nodded, waiting until they were seated with tea before speaking.

“There might be someone,” he murmured. “In Doncaster.”

“Oh?”

“It's difficult,” Harry frowned, nibbling his lip. “I’m not sure what he wants. I’m not sure I can give him it, either,” he added quietly.

“Tell you what, there was a lovely lad who dropped in when you’d left,” Des mused. “He needed your expertise on a case. I offered to take his details but he told me to look after you,” Des shared, shaking his head incredulously.

Harry smiled, his heartbeat racing at the thought. It reminded him of Louis so much. A man who seemed to put everyone else first. A man who he had witnessed go into panic at the thought of being Harry’s _boyfriend._

“Well, I’m still sneaking my help in somewhere,” he shared. “I’m staying with a guy who runs an animal rescue farm and I’m pretending I studied animal care in College.”

“You did,” Des smirked.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed. “I’m not lying.”

“You’re just omitting the first-class degree you earned on top,” he laughed.

Harry smiled too, sipping his tea.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m scared,” Harry admitted.

Des sat up a bit, placing his mug down to reach across the table and squeeze Harry’s arm.

“What about?” 

Harry took a breath.

“About maybe really liking someone and then leaving,” he frowned.

Des stared at him for a long moment, lifting his hand to cup Harry’s jaw.

“If that’s where your heart is, son, then that’s home,” he assured.

Harry swallowed back sentimental tears.

“I don’t want to leave you, either.”

Des nodded with an emotional swallow.

“You don’t have to, Harry. If you need me, I promise you I’ll be there for you. No matter what, okay?”

Harry nodded, conflicted.

“I want you to be happy, Harry. I want you to find love.”

“Okay,” tears trickled down Harry’s cheeks as his throat tightened and felt sore.

“Alright, good,” Des nodded, Harry gripping his wrist to keep his palm against his cheek. “And if it doesn’t work out we’ll search for this diamond in the rough I met instead,” he added softly, teasing.

Harry smiled and finished his tea.

//

Louis was in the kitchen baking cookies as a surprise for Harry when he heard the heavy tumbling sound against the carpeted stairs.

He dashed through the living room to see what was going on, finding Harry in a dazed heap at the foot of the staircase; for once fully dressed in blue jeans and a cream knit jumper.

“Haz?” Louis sat him up carefully, checking him over for broken bones.

“Ouch" Harry hissed as Louis unfurled his feet and settled his legs.

“Twisted?” Louis asked, ducking to check his eyes, to see if his pupils had enlarged or shrunk to signal concussion.

“No, just sore,” Harry pouted, rubbing his thigh with a wince.

“What happened?” Louis asked, rising to fetch the fleece blanket to wrap around him.

“Not sure,” Harry said. “Got up from my sleep and....took a tumble.”

Louis soothed him with a stroking hand across his shoulders.

“Want me to drive you to the medical centre to check you over?”

“No,” Harry jerked his chin up, eyes fastening on Louis'. “Um, that is, I’m fine,” he mused. “Physically I’m fine,” he added. “Emotionally I’m bruised.”

“Alright, well shall we get you to the sofa, champ?” Louis suggested.

Harry let Louis help him up and assist him to the couch.

“You look nice,” Louis commented as Harry plopped down.

_Dressing for a date with the ex husband?_

“Yeah, I had a plan,” Harry pressed his lips together coyly. “Before I ruined it by falling ass over tit,” he joked.

“You don’t have tits,” Louis pointed out.

“Take that back!” Harry gasped, pressing his hands over his pectorals.

Louis regarded him with a rueful smile.

“Fine. You’ve got lovely tits,” he complimented. “What was the plan?”

“To take you for dinner,” Harry answered honestly, wide green eyes gazing right at Louis' face.

Louis blinked.

“Oh,” he breathed, sliding into the seat beside Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry cleared his throat. “Would you like to?”

Louis frowned, mind racing into overtime to make sense of the question. Louis had been _convinced _that the reason Harry hadn’t wanted to have dinner was to avoid getting too involved. But now he wasn’t just _agreeing _to it. He was proposing it. And that was baffling to say the least.

“Don’t think you’re in any fit state to be swanning around town, H, do you?” Louis accused gently, forcing his hurt down his throat in a hard swallow.

“I’m alright now,” Harry assured, dropping the blanket from his shoulders and standing up. “See? Wore smart clothes and everything,” he offered with a helplessly endearing smile, one that was tinged with hope.

His nostril still bore the hoop but in his ear he’d added a cross dangling from a hoop that looked far too _Keith Richards_ for Louis to comment.

“Why don’t you have some cookies first?” Louis suggested.

Harry regarded him cautiously; toes wriggling against the carpet.

“Do you not want to go?” He asked, softly enough to have Louis' chest tightening guiltily.

He wanted to go more than he’d ever wanted anything before. But Harry might be _taken. _He might be using Louis to bide him over. And Louis could just _ask_ him but—

_Fuck._

He should just ask him.

He should just find out the truth, however much it hurt. He'd get over it, eventually, he always did. At least he could make an informed decision, then. Instead of trying to—

“Oh.” Harry’s voice was a whisper, toes clenching up. “I see,” he added with furrowed brows. “It's okay,” he soldiered on, throat bobbing. “It’s really okay, Louis,” he breathed out a sigh, awkwardly twisting and making jerky movements to start towards the stairs he’d just fallen down.

Louis listened to him walk up them without calling his name.

//

“Have you two had a spat or something?” Liam asked as they mucked out the stables.

The ponies were out in the paddock enjoying a gallop while they worked. Louis could see Harry leaning on the fence watching them, a little black nautical cap pulled over his hair and his sunglasses covering his pretty eyes.

“No,” Louis replied. It hadn’t been a _spat._

“Then why is he over there are you’re over here?” Liam broached.

Louis glared at him.

“We’re not joined at the hip, Lima,” Louis accused.

“Hey,” Liam tossed a forkful of manure on Louis' wellies. “Only Harry calls me that.”

“And me now,” Louis smiled.

Liam sighed the sigh of a long-suffering man.

“So...what’s happened?” He tried again, no less artfully.

Louis rolled his eyes and strode up and down, dumping manure at an alarming rate.

“I was a fucking idiot, alright?” He snapped. “There. I admit it. What else do you want?”

Liam strolled by him with a confused glance.

“Well I want to know _why_,” he murmured.

Louis shifted the bandana he’d tied around his head to soak up his sweat, the band tight and itchy against his hot skin.

“Because I turned him down,” Louis admitted, guilt threatening to choke him as it swelled in his throat.

“You turned him down,” Liam repeated. “Why?”

“Because I think he’s with someone back home,” Louis huffed. “And I think I’m just a toy between the sheets for him...”

“Didn’t need the graphic,” Liam complained. “But Lou...are you sure he’s with someone?”

“I heard him on the phone,” Louis admitted. “Telling someone he loved them and missed them and _not to come here_,” he emphasised.

“Did you ask him about it?” Liam wondered, glancing at Harry curiously.

Louis looked over too, finding Harry _inside _the pony enclosure now, teaching them something for they both stood watching him like a grand master magician. Jennifer _and_ Tiny Tim, despite the miniature pony having the temperament of an angry old man.

“No, I didn’t ask him,” Louis mused. “Kind of made it clear from the get-go that he wasn’t hanging around,” he explained. “Can’t exactly go around demanding things just because I have stupid _feelings_,” he muttered.

“I thought you were boyfriends.”

Louis grimaced.

“’Fraid not Lima bean.”

“Louis-"

“Don’t give me the speech, Liam. I know how it goes. I’m a shithead for rejecting him and he probably doesn’t have a husband back home and I’m an asshole for assuming that and an even bigger dick for saying no when he asked me out.”

“Glad you've got it memorized,” Liam quipped. “But you forgot the best part...”

Louis straightened up, back twinging from bending over for too long.

“Oh?” He narrowed his eyes.

“The part where I tell you to sort yourself the fuck out and take that frown off his face,” Liam smiled wanly. “You seem to have forgotten that part.”

Louis glanced out over the paddock again, Harry now on his knees, hands pressed gently to Jennifer’s flank, their oldest pony suffering from arthritis in her senior years. Harry was talking to her, her ears flicking in peaceful receipt of whatever words he was using, her hooves fidgeting on the ground with his touch.

Louis couldn’t help but stare, mouth agape, Tim playfully racing further down the enclosure away from the private moment.

“That is a guy you don’t want to let go,” Liam patted him gently on the back. “No matter who you think he belongs to. Make him yours, Louis.”

And Louis swept out the stables with the thought on loop.

_Make him yours._

//

It was Friday night that Harry came clambering carefully down the stairs in pitch black tight jeans, a black t-shirt under his leather jacket and the hooped earring matching the one in his nose.

It took Louis' breath away watching him slink around the room to exit via the kitchen, his movements slow but graceful.

“Don’t wait up,” he called to Louis as he reached the door, the words filling Louis with something darker than guilt. _Dread._

Harry was dressed to kill. He’d find someone willing and able to fulfil his needs quite easily in town. No doubt the band already had groupies who’d do anything to get their favourite’s attention.

Louis pulled his dressing gown tighter around himself. It had been a while since he had been _that_ guy. The guy who would go out, get wild and fuck whoever was up for it. Meeting Harry that day outside the pub had ignited that desire in some way. But he’d quickly grown _interested _in Harry. And that was difficult because they hadn’t agreed to _be _anything.

But something didn’t feel right, somehow. As hard as it was to understand why, Harry was evidently affected by Louis' lack of response to his dinner invite and even if Harry had only intended it as a thank you to Louis for letting him stay then maybe Louis should at least _try._

_Even if he knew his heart was going to break watching Harry leave._

Maybe he could pop in to the pub for a quick drink? Just to show that after the week of awkward silence they’d had, he didn’t hold any hard feelings. Maybe he could talk to Harry about _why_. Why he hadn’t said yes. Why he’d let him walk away. Why he hadn’t attempted fixing the situation as much as his heart begged him to do it.

Louis surged up out of his seat, running a quick shower and shaving before dressing in his own black jeans and a t-shirt. They'd look like a couple of Lost Boys, Louis smirked as he applied eyeliner to darken his eyes.

The pub was crammed. Louis was right, they did have a following. Luckily his small build allowed him to weave through the masses to get to the bar where he staked his place confidently. People pressing up behind him became the norm until a sweet, tobacco-tainted scent drifted his way, a warm body slotting behind his familiarly.

“I hear you’re next in line to be served,” Harry raised his voice above the din to be heard.

Louis twisted to look at him. His heart fluttered.

“I am,” Louis affirmed.

Harry slipped him a torn edge of paper.

“This is the band's order,” he shared. “I’ll carry them if you can get them requested.”

Louis nodded and slid the list to Dev, turning back to engage Harry. Only Harry had shifted away from the crush at the bar, leaning his back against the wall where an equally tall and muscular man seemed to be getting too close.

_Great_. Harry had not only landed him with the drinks bill but he was out to prove a point. A point that Louis had been avoiding. _He wasn’t special_. Harry really _didn’t _see him as anything more than a regular fuck.

Going there had been a mistake, he could accept that now. Sat at home he would have always wondered _what if. What if _Harry was waiting for him to show? _What if _all it took was Louis to go for Harry to talk to him again?

It was hell trying to navigate a crowd of giants while balancing a tray of delicate glass but Louis managed to serve the band, giving Niall a quick hug before glancing around one last time, just in case. _What if _Harry wasn’t really into that guy?

He froze, stock still as Harry came into view, finally. He was disguised partly by the broad male pinning him against the wall and kissing him deeply; the reality of which pierced Louis' heart like a stingray.

Somehow he got his legs to work and he robotically moved himself towards the door, the sounds swallowing him up and sickening his stomach. This was why he didn’t go out, anymore. This was why he stayed at home in his own little safe bubble where he could pretend that everything was okay.

Everything was _not_ okay.

Harry was kissing someone else and it was all Louis' fault.

//

Harry was sick when he got back. He was sick down his clothes, over the bathroom floor and finally in the toilet. Louis cleaned it all up and cleaned up Harry and dressed him in sweats and helped him into bed.

For a moment, he let his heart break open and bleed. He sat on the edge of the guest bed and tousled Harry’s hair gently, shh'ing his drunken, restless murmurs until he settled into solid sleep.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “I never had a chance.”

Harry’s head tilted, Louis fearing he was awake but he pursed his lips to press a kiss to Louis' palm sleepily.

Louis pulled the covers right up to his chin and dropped a kiss to his forehead before leaving, his heart heavy and dragging between his feet.

//

Harry was busy in the kitchen when Louis came in from his morning rounds, his house guest belted into his dressing gown that he’d left hanging in the back of the bathroom door and the soft grey sweat pants and t-shirt underneath it that Louis had dressed him in the previous night.

He had his back to the door as Louis came inside, broad shoulders hunched as he worked at the stove. Louis quickly realised he was wearing earphones and approached slowly, curling gentle fingers around his elbow to alert Harry to his presence.

“Hi,” Louis smiled, strained.

Harry shifted, but he wasn’t startled and it was a strange feeling, knowing Harry was already comfortable enough to know Louis might be there behind him.

“Hi.”

Louis flicked his eyes to the stove-top where several pans were set.

“Hangover munchies?” He enquired drily, stepping away to wash his hands at the sink.

“Um...actually it’s a thank you,” Harry told him.

Louis twisted, drying his hands.

“Oh.”

“For last night,” Harry shared. “A thank you and an apology all in one...”

Louis folded the towel, gazing at him and documenting every detail. The trite expression on his face, the tired downward tilt of his right eye; the way his eyes were swollen underneath. He looked genuinely remorseful.

“I mean the fry up would cover the thank you but I think “sorry" requires chocolate,” he arched a teasing brow and smirked.

Harry’s lashes flickered and Louis noticed his piercings were missing. He noticed the thickness of his beard as his lips pulled into a faint smile.

“Got it covered, Lou,” Harry stepped back to open the oven door, showcasing a tray of pain au chocolate.

Louis beamed and walked over to the kettle to make tea.

“You do realise you can’t possibly leave,” Louis commented as he rinsed out the teapot and dropped two tea bags in.

“And why would that be?”

_Yes Louis, why would that be?_

“Luxury breakfasts, of course,” Louis turned and leaned back against the counter, Harry’s gaze staying on him.

“Of course,” he nodded, voice quiet.

Louis brought the tea over while Harry served the hot food, the table crowded with choices.

“You feel okay now?” Louis checked as Harry nibbled on buttered toast.

“Might go back to bed for a bit after I’ve seen to Evie,” he commented. “Was I um...was I sick? I mean... I know I was sick,” he sighed, giving up on his toast. “But how bad was it? Did I make a mess?”

It was the most he'd said since arriving and Louis liked it, the way Harry was slowly letting his guard down.

“Not a big deal,” Louis shrugged, digging into his breakfast.

“It’s a big deal to me,” Harry promised. “I’m sorry that I made a nuisance of myself.”

Louis rested his knife and fork on the edge of his plate and looked at him; soft and tired from his night out.

“You’re never a nuisance,” he vouched. “The lambs that are refusing to be bottle-fed, _they’re_ a nuisance,” he added to lighten the moment.

Harry sat up a bit.

“Can I help?”

“Don’t you want to sleep for a bit?” Louis picked up his knife and fork and began eating again.

“Not if I can help out,” Harry offered.

Louis watched him for a moment, remembering Harry’s ease with Jennifer and Tim and wondering if he could work his magic on the lambs.

“Ok, we could use the help,” he admitted. “If you can get the lambs to suckle that'd be a weight off my shoulders.”

Harry nodded and got up to get ready.

//

The delivery of farm animals that had been due weeks ago was delayed thanks to issues with the legal paperwork relating to the farmer's estate.

Louis was in the top field with Liam, installing extra fencing when the trucks arrived the day after Harry's hangover.

By the time he made it down to the drive, Harry was already present in Wellington boots and leggings, a huge jumper pulled over his torso and a tweed cap covering his hair.

“Who gave him wellies?” Louis asked his friend.

“I did,” Liam admitted proudly. “He wanted to help and he didn’t have the right gear.”

“I see,” Louis murmured, greeted by a swarm of sheep who were descending from the first truck by the wooden ramp, Harry expertly fielding them towards the barn. “You've done this before,” Louis realised, curious.

Harry glanced at him and then at Liam.

“Not really. Seems pretty straightforward to me,” he added.

Louis looked at Liam who only smiled sweetly at him.

“You and Harry get the sheep settled and I’ll get the cows up in the field.”

“You'll need help with the gates,” Louis turned to join him at the second truck.

“These guys are going to help me drive them up,” Liam gestured to the drivers who gave Louis a thumbs up.

“Alright, then,” he murmured, doubling back to control the swell of sheep shuffling into the barn.

Harry had it mostly under control by the time Louis chased a few stragglers into the dry space.

Harry was stranded in the centre of the room, the sheep temporarily frightened and leaping over each other around his slim legs. Louis couldn’t help his fond smile, wading into the bleating mass to rescue him.

“Still recovering from your night out?” Louis accused warmly, gently shifting the animals away to approach.

Harry's eyes looked tired as they met Louis'.

“Didn’t sleep well last night,” he said.

Louis nodded, wincing as a ewe trod on his toe. He stopped in front of Harry, a thick body wedged between their knees, bleating loudly.

“It’s going to be a bit manic for a few days while I try and find homes for this lot.”

“I thought he just had a few?” Harry remembered from their conversation.

“This was an extra herd they found that hadn’t been sold at market. I could take them to the livestock auction but my conscience won’t let me.”

Harry’s eyes found his and the sheep separating them galloped away. Harry stepped closer.

“It’s very admirable, Lou,” he remarked. “How you save each animal.”

Louis swept his gaze away, shuffling a bit closer, inspecting his own boots closely. The worn leather looked somehow right next to nearly new shiny black rubber Wellingtons.

“Can I ask you something?” Louis lifted his chin.

Harry nodded mutely.

“Louis?!” Liam’s frantic voice cut into the slow warmth that had weaved between them, breaking the intimate spell.

“Yeah?” Louis waded back through the startled animals towards the barn door, pausing to reach back for Harry, his heart thundering when Harry took his hand willingly to be led.

“One of the cows broke right through the fence,” Liam told him as his brown eyes flicked over their joined hands, Louis stumbling to a halt in front of him, hand clasped around Harry's.

“Shit,” Louis hissed. “We didn’t get it bolted right down, did we?”

“Thought it'd be enough to hold them,” Liam sighed. “The lads got a pallet propped up to do us for now but--"

“I’ll go and fix it,” Louis quickly offered. “I need you to check the others before you go, if that’s okay?”

Liam nodded, eyes flicking back to their hands and then slipping away when Louis shifted to fetch his tools.

//

“I can help with the fence,” Harry trailed him across the yard.

“You need to rest,” Louis mused.

“I’m ok,” Harry promised, capturing Louis' wrist gently in his fingers to pause him on his mission. “Please,” he added, softer. “Let me help.”

Louis nodded and grasped his hand to lead him up the fields.

//

“Fuck—"

Harry got up from his crouched position and staggered, legs giving way and arms flailing until he grasped the fence they’d just bolted into place.

Louis quickly shot up from his knelt position, sliding his arms around Harry’s waist to secure him.

“You okay, champ?” Louis asked worriedly.

Harry took a moment to gather his bearings, letting go of the fence to set his arms around Louis' shoulders instead.

“I think so.”

Louis looked up at him bemusedly.

“Maybe you did hit your head the other day?” He questioned. “We should get you checked over.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine. I just got up too quick. I forget I’m not the young sprite I used to be.”

“Oh sure, you’re ancient,” Louis snorted.

Harry looked him in the eye, blinking slowly.

“I’m going to kiss you quiet,” he said and it sounded like a threat.

Louis remained unafraid.

“Try it, gangster,” he warned fearlessly.

Harry smirked and ducked his head, planting a firm kiss to Louis' mouth.

“You hushed up yet?” Harry asked.

Louis' eyes sparkled as he tittered, Harry’s lips settling over his in a softer, experimental sweep. As though Louis might not want to kiss him back. As though he might push him away. And Louis hadn’t let go of him since he'd careened into the fence so why would Harry think he might not want to?

Louis made sure to knock his cap off and dig his fingers into Harry’s hair when he did kiss him back. He made sure to lash his tongue against Harry’s boldly, made sure to press in close and murmur something praising. His body warmed in recognition. His senses danced to life. Harry smelt like mud and the treated wooden panels of the new fence. He tasted like peppermint gum and felt solid and warm. He sounded heavenly, heavy breath and low moans. 

Louis didn’t realise exactly the situation they were in until Liam’s subtle throat- clearing pulled him from the moment. Harry was pressed up against the new fence, Louis' fingertips and thumb biting into his thigh as Harry hooked it over his hip and Harry’s chest was flushed under his thick jumper.

“Oh,” Louis murmured, shifting enough only to twist to look at Liam. “We’re just uh...testing the fence,” he lied.

Liam laughed, eyes flicking to Harry.

“Looks pretty sturdy,” he commented.

Harry carefully unravelled himself from Louis' hold, tugging down his jumper and crouching to fetch his lost cap from the other side of the fence, through the bars.

“Solid,” Harry nodded as he straightened with a waver that Louis righted by sliding an arm around his waist.

Harry leaned into him a bit with a sheepish smile.

“Right. So, I was just coming up to let you know that everything is checked,” Liam shared with a knowing smile. “And I’m headed out.”

Louis slid away from Harry to hug his friend.

“Thank you for today,” he murmured.

Liam nodded and turned to walk back down the field after bidding farewell to Harry.

“He definitely thinks we're boyfriends,” Harry remarked, drawing Louis' gaze to him.

“Well, it’s up to you what we are, isn’t it?” He suggested as Harry carefully made his way across the grass.

Harry paused by the gate.

“It’s up to _us_,” Harry’s deep voice corrected softly.

Louis took a deep breath and lifted the gate to let them through.

“Don’t you have uh...Isn’t there someone back home?” He checked nervously.

Harry walked through and watched him lift the gate to shut it.

“No,” he frowned. “What made you think that?”

Louis swallowed, fingers coaxed by Harry's into twining together.

“Uh...something you said. That I heard.” He ventured guiltily.

“What did I say?” Harry asked, veering right to walk closer to Louis.

“On the phone,” Louis admitted. “You were telling somebody not to come here.”

Harry let out a loud ‘huh' that startled the ponies. He looked across at Louis

“It wasn’t an ex,” he promised. “It’s harder than I thought to disappear,” he added ruefully.

Louis took a reassuring breath at his words.

“I thought maybe...for a minute there I thought maybe you were on a break,” he shared. “I thought I was a fling. I thought--"

“Fuck, no,” Harry tugged his hand to bring him to a halt in the yard, green eyes dark in the shadows of the falling night. “Lou, no,” he whispered.

Louis stared at him, heart and soul bared in the dipping sunlight.

“I couldn’t say yes to dinner without really knowing.”

Harry stared back, unblinking, wellies squelching in the remnants of mud as he drew Louis close. He didn't kiss him the way Louis anticipated, instead he drew him into a tight but gentle cuddle, breath soft against Louis' ear.

“I’m sorry I haven’t made it easy for you.”

Louis’ heart flared at the hope in his words, fragmenting at the sorrow in them, too.

“You never lied to me,” he whispered, pulling away.

Harry blinked at him.

“I want something with you,” he stated.

Louis rolled his eyes and started for the house again.

“You wanted something with Nick the other night, too,” he accused.

Harry followed him, shucking his wellies at the back door while Louis unlaced his boots.

“No, I was drunk and being stupid,” Harry pointed out.

Louis sighed, ridding his outerwear as he came inside, the instant blast of heat making him feel tired. Harry followed him up the stairs.

He paused by the bathroom.

“Lou?”

Louis turned in the corridor, halfway to his room.

“Yeah?”

“Want to get clean with me?”

Louis flicked his eyes to Harry’s and knew he couldn’t say no.

//

Harry settled into sleep on his side with Louis tucked in behind him, spooning his longer body.

Louis had fucked him, Harry’s back to the tiles and legs wrapped around Louis' waist and they’d kissed after until they were too tired to stay awake, falling into bed without eating dinner.

They could make up for it at breakfast, Louis reasoned as he watched Harry fall asleep.

He kissed Harry's bare shoulder and comforted himself enough to sleep, too.


	4. Chapter 4

“Bring me breakfast!”

Harry was in a playful mood, mock-belligerent as he made demands of Louis who had already dressed and brought up tea with biscuits.

“Who made you King?” Louis poked his thigh as he delivered the hot drink.

“M'tired,” Harry mumbled, turning away from Louis toward the centre of the bed and curling into himself.

Louis smiled.

“Have a lay in,” he suggested kindly. “I’ll bring you some food before I head out.”

Harry’s head lifted, sleep-ruffled hair an attractive mess.

“Wait,” he squinted, sitting up. “Is it really morning already?”

Louis watched him with a bemused smile, hands rested on his hips.

“What do you want for breakfast, your highness?”

Harry made a slow caterpillar type crawl to the edge of the bed.

“I’m making breakfast,” he decided.

“You sure?”

Harry got up and downed his tea, popping the biscuit into his mouth whole to crunch and swallow.

“I said I’d earn my keep,” he reminded. “I just need a minute to get going, that’s all.”

Louis' gaze naturally flicked to his very naked state that he hadn’t felt the need to cover. Harry's dick was propped majestically on his balls, pretty even when he wasn’t hard. His muscular body looked soft bare, his tattoos were gentler, somehow. Louis recognised some of the designs but he hadn’t yet placed where he had seen them before. The swallows and the butterfly were too striking to forget but when Louis was tangled with him and pressed up against his masculine-scented skin, the importance of remembering seemed to slip away.

And maybe, just maybe, Harry’s statement about wanting _something _could be exactly the reassurance Louis needed. Maybe it could be a sign that he wanted to _stay._

Louis wasn’t going to hurry him into defining his words.

“Alright, Lou,” Harry’s silky voice sounded deeper than usual and husky.

Louis realised he’d been staring at his crotch for too long; his original cheeky thought that it didn’t _usually _take Harry long to get going; suddenly blasted away as he watched Harry's body react to his look alone, sleek dick now pulling upwards, Harry’s hand hesitant to wrap around it.

“We could--" his eyes left the sight of Harry stroking himself, slowly, to connect with his soul. “Late start,” he skipped the unimportant words in his sentence.

_Jesus._

_Very late start_. Harry was already hard, tummy clenching and body flushing with warmth as Louis gazed at him.

“Yeah?” Harry blinked, biting his lip. “You think we can do that?”

Louis started taking off his clothes again, content in the knowledge they _could. _

//

“Remember the favour I needed?” Harry asked one evening when Louis came down from his late shower, greeted with a hearty vegetable casserole and mashed potatoes.

Harry looked lean in slim fit blue jeans and an old white band t-shirt, a rare appearance of him indoors in _clothes_, Louis noted.

“Something about photographing me,” Louis conjured the memory by connecting it to the sensual reminder of Harry mapping his collarbones with his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled at him gently, eyes shy in meeting his, focusing on his plate instead. “Is it still ok?”

Louis tucked into his food hungrily.

“Tonight?” He checked, glancing up.

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his chest and over his arms, bared by the vest he had pulled on with his sweatpants.

“If you’re game,” he murmured.

After dinner Harry carried his camera equipment into the lounge, his tripod carefully assembled.

“Think I should comb my hair,” Louis fingered the half-dry tufts thoughtfully.

“No,” Harry snapped his neck to stare at him. “I mean, um...just as you are, if you don’t mind?”

Louis lifted a brow and settled on the stool Harry gestured him towards; the one he had ferried in from the kitchen.

“Documenting me at my worst, are you?” He mused. “No doubt to be used for leverage later.”

Harry huffed as he settled himself behind his tripod; focusing his camera lens carefully.

“Yeah, like blackmailing you into forgiving me for drunk kissing other guys,” Harry quipped.

Louis adjusted himself into a more comfortable slouch.

“Pretty sure you can kiss whoever you like,” he murmured.

Louis heard the tell-tale sound of the shutter compressing as Harry began to shoot.

“Don’t you need special lighting?” Louis wondered.

“I’ll manage,” Harry assured. “Janet is a darling, you know. She’s very keen to see my personal work. She's gushing over the shots I’m submitting.”

“Gushing, huh,” Louis swallowed.

He was pretty _gushing_ about Harry too. In fact, he could picture Harry standing up from his tripod and strolling over in his more-usual boxer briefs and nudging between Louis' thighs to kiss him. Louis would squeeze Harry’s hips with his thighs as Harry fucked him good and slow and Louis would always remember the session for reasons other than Harry’s photography.

Harry’s hum was throaty but he didn’t shift from his position, just resettled himself slightly like he could read Louis' thoughts.

“Everybody gushes over you,” Louis accused gently, fingers clasped over his knees.

Harry peeked from behind his set up, nose-stud glittering in the light. He had a tiny green diamante stud this time, pretty and delicate. Louis checked his ear to see if he had a matching design but the hoop and cross were back, his thick dark curls layered in their usual mess that looked perfectly designed.

“Do they,” Harry mumbled, not inviting an answer.

“They do,” Louis replied anyway with a nervous breath.

“Relax, Lou,” Harry told him, warm green eyes peeking around to him once again. “Are you comfortable there?” He asked belatedly. “You can move to the couch...”

“As if I’m letting you photograph me sat on that old thing,” Louis snorted.

“Will you let me fuck you on it?” Harry countered and Louis' brain went momentarily numb.

“Maybe,” he swallowed, crossing his ankles to swing his legs a little, arms drawing up to fold over his chest.

“A maybe, hm?” Harry continued working out of Louis' direct sight. “Let’s see if we can change that to a _yes_...”

//

As it worked out, _yes _was a word that Louis became very familiar with after the session.

Harry appeared pretty fond of it too. A second, extended shower preceded them tumbling into Louis' bed together, their lips not willing to give up the renewed pleasure of kissing, again.

Louis cradled Harry’s sleep-heavy head on his bicep, tucking back his wild curls and placing a kiss above his graceful eyebrow, tracing the shape with a fingertip. Harry's beard bristled as he stirred, lips stretching into a tired smile.

“You think I should get it pierced, too?” He asked, words lazy with exhaustion.

Louis smirked and traced the back of his finger over his cheekbone, reaching down to pinch his nipple lightly.

“Maybe there instead?” He whispered, lips pressing against his forehead.

Harry curled up with a boyish smile, tangling his legs with Louis'.

“Pretty sensitive there already,” he admitted quietly.

Louis let the backs of his fingers drift lower, thumb covering his belly button.

“What about here?”

Harry hummed deeply and pressed into the touch, Louis splaying his fingers into his happy trail. His sleepy eyes fluttered open, sparkling green.

“I think I’d like that,” Harry admitted, capturing his lip with his teeth.

“I could come with you, if you needed moral support,” Louis offered.

“Will we get time?” Harry checked, mentally calculating Evie’s rehabilitation programme and the new herds’ feeding requirements.

Louis grinned, hand sliding around to squeeze his hip.

“We'll make time,” he promised.

//

“What shall I get?” Harry leaned over the cabinet of belly button bars, dark glasses lifted slightly to focus on the tiny designs.

Louis pointed to a tiny zirconia penis and giggled.

“That one!”

Harry squinted at it and snorted, asking the assistant to take out one of the cushions for a closer look.

Louis inched over to lean on his arm to see, surprised by the fairy-tale-themed designs. They were all delicate and pretty, not something he would have associated with the brooding, bearded man beside him.

The insight into the soft side of Harry’s nature was stored away carefully for future reference.

“Do you see any you like?” Harry asked him.

“Which one do _you _like, love?” Louis asked back, squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring his slip of the tongue. He called everybody love, it wasn’t a big deal.

Except maybe it _was_ because Harry was blushing when Louis glanced at him.

“This one,” he pointed to a gold bar with a small ball at the top and a larger one at the bottom, both set with a pink-toned gem, a moon hanging below the larger ball with a tiny star dangling in its crescent.

“That’s perfect,” Louis murmured, waiting for Harry to point his chosen design out to the piercing artist and waiting for him to be taken into the back of the studio before he gathered the attention of the front desk assistant.

He pointed to the gold bar with a tiny rose on the bottom of it, diamantes decorating the tips of the petals and the ball stud.

“Can you box this one up for me too, please?” He asked.

The young man gave him a knowing smile.

“That’s a beautiful design,” he commended.

“I hope he thinks so,” Louis rubbed his hands together nervously.

The young man went about charging him and boxing the jewellery carefully.

“Ay up, Louis!” called a loud, bright voice behind him that made him startle.

“Oh, it’s you!” He accused Niall, clutching at his heart to check it was still there and hadn’t shot out of his chest via his mouth.

Niall smirked.

“Is Harry getting you pierced up?” Niall asked.

“No, he’s adding to his own collection,” Louis promised.

“Saw you from outside,” Niall commented, moving towards the tattoo designs and flicking through the poster sheets.

“How you doing?” Louis checked.

“Good, yeah. Really good. You uh...you and Harry, huh?”

Louis paused the posters, eyes drawn to a dagger design, stabbed through a rose.

“Do you like that one?” Louis asked his friend.

“It’s got a rose like Harry's,” Niall tilted his head. “Why don’t you just get the knife on its own?”

Louis nodded thoughtfully.

“You’d be matching, then,” he added slyly, earning an eye roll from Louis.

“Right,” Louis sighed. “What are you up to now, then?”

“Lunch with Harold,” Niall smiled. “And you, if you like.”

Louis looked at the dagger again.

“I might look at a few more pictures,” he murmured.

Harry strolled out of the parlour and immediately lifted his t-shirt, the laurels tattooed across his hips peeking above the waistline of his signature black jeans. The delicate belly-bar was surrounded by faintly sore skin.

“Eh?” He grinned, eyes sparkling as he clocked Niall.

“Fuck, that’s brilliant, mate,” Niall beamed. “Kind of makes me want to go down on you.”

Louis choked, Harry segueing into bubbling laughter.

“Thanks for the offer, Niall, but I think I’m good, actually.”

“Well, Tommo here has you covered,” Niall grasped Louis' shoulder.

Louis ventured a look to Harry and tried to break from his gaze.

“Do you like it, Lou?” Harry asked, quieter, like he wasn’t sure whether Louis would say yes.

Louis leaned closer while Niall rolled back on his heels, hands pocketed as more customers entered the shop.

“I’ll go down on you later,” he promised in his ear, patting him on the bum with a wan smile before stepping back a little. “Go and enjoy lunch with this freak, here,” Louis mused of their mutual friend.

“Hey, I’m not the one getting a—"

“Off you go,” Louis ushered them both towards the door. “I’ll come get you when I’m done here...”

“Lou, are you getting a tattoo?” Harry twisted to ask, confused. “I would have got one, too, if you’d said.”

“I think you’ll find it’s a spontaneous decision,” Niall opened the shop door to lead Harry out. “He can surprise you later. But he’s getting a snake on his dick just in case you wondered...”

Harry laughed and waved goodbye to Louis as Niall wrestled him into the street outside.

//

Harry loved getting his dick sucked. Louis, quite frankly, loved sucking it.

After, they flopped out on their backs on the bed, the protective plastic on Louis' arm drawing Harry’s curiosity.

He curled onto his side to investigate.

“You got a dagger?” His fingers traced the shape delicately over the plastic wrap.

“It stands for bravery and protection.” Louis explained.

“Hmm,” Harry considered it thoughtfully, a quiver in his fingers that Louis hoped was down to the way he’d gotten him off. “It’s opposite of a rose, too. I never got the dagger put into my rose,” Harry twisted his arm to showcase it. “It represents love, really. The dagger would symbolise broken love...”

“You’ve never been betrayed?” Louis lifted his chin up to look Harry in the eye.

Harry swallowed, flicking his eyes away.

“Not exactly. Not heart broken,” he added.

“Felt like I needed strength,” Louis shared.

“You’re good at being strong, Lou,” Harry complimented.

Louis huffed.

“I don’t feel like it.”

“You make _me _feel it,” he licked his lips, twisting his torso to stare at the ceiling.

Louis shifted his hand, running his thumb down Harry's.

“Oh? You mean it’s my fault you've got the moon and stars hanging in your belly button now?”

Harry turned his head to grin at him, fingers quickly sliding through Louis’ to loosely combine their hands.

“Where I come from, I hadn’t even _thought_ about it,” he shared. “You know, earrings and nose studs.”

“Hey, you had those when you got here,” Louis objected. “Don’t blame that on me!”

Harry giggled, flicking out a foot to gently kick him.

“Shh, I’m saying something _nice_! If you’d just _listen_!”

“Alright,” Louis captured his foot between his ankles. “What’s this epic speech then, love?”

Louis cringed inwardly at the second use of the endearment that had made Harry blush. _Fuck. _He really needed to get a handle on that.

“I felt like giving up, you know? Back home, back in—" He paused, swallowing down the name of his hometown. “I had to get out but it was hard, too. I’ve never had to fend for myself, before,” he admitted. “Didn’t know I _could._”

“And I just throw you in the deep end,” Louis lamented. “Why didn't you say anything?”

Harry squeezed his hand.

“I didn’t want to be treated differently.”

“Probably shouldn’t have come to town in a leather jacket and dark glasses,” Louis teased.

Harry tried to kick him with his other foot. He settled it with their others.

“Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Thank you for brightening the dullness,” Louis replied. “Won’t be as much fun when you’re gone.”

Louis rolled over to stroke the back of his finger over Harry’s bearded jaw.

“Have you ever shaved it?” Curious blue eyes lifted to latent green ones.

“Yeah...”

“You’re hiding something,” Louis narrowed his lashes, a smile starting up.

Harry froze, eyes serious all of a sudden.

“I am?”

“Don’t think I don’t know, Mr. Cool,” Louis accused, poking his cheek gently. “I see those dimples of yours busting to get out...”

Harry’s whole body sagged with his sigh.

“Oh,” he forced a smile. “Fuck. You found out my secret.”

Louis laughed, rolling back and then towards him again, unable to quell his urge to cuddle. He thumbed the hair growing above his top lip.

“Love how it feels when you kiss me,” he murmured reassuringly, in case Harry thought Louis was pressuring him to shave.

“Yeah?”

Louis wriggled up close to prove his claim.

//

“I mean there’s _one _good thing about mud,” Harry strode across the sheep-filled yard to slap a wet, dirty hand onto Louis' ass-cheek with a smug smile.

“Neanderthal,” Louis accused, flipping off Harry's tweed cap.

Harry’s keen olive gaze slipped over him as he wiped the remainder of wet mud onto the front of his thigh.

“Always knew you were filthy,” he winked, sticking his tongue into his cheek suggestively before he span around to chase down his hat.

It had caught on one of the herd's backs, tugged back into place with a little stumble as Harry tripped over his own feet.

“Let’s get the last few back in the barn for the night, then we can head inside for dinner,” Louis refocused himself to get the job done as quickly as possible.

“What time is it?” Harry asked over his shoulder as he rounded on a trio of wily sheep to herd them inside the barn.

“Nearly six o'clock,” Louis grimaced, straddling a large ewe between his legs and grasping her fur to wrestle her into place.

“Already?” Harry frowned, crouching to pick up a lamb to carry it.

“’Fraid so,” Louis mused.

“Feels like we only just had afternoon break.”

Afternoon break had consisted of instant hot chocolate with marshmallows and chocolate cake that Harry had baked sometime after dawn.

Louis paused from sheep-wrangling to admire the distinctly masculine way Harry carried himself, taut body irrefutably strong in the kind of way that stole Louis' breath a little.

And that showcase of manhood wasn’t undermined by the pretty piercing Louis knew dangled from his belly button, but the thought of the two things together had him hot and hard in a painful flash.

His hand stuttered to cover himself, jeans tight with the damp conditions, his waterproof jacket slewn off when he'd gotten too hot. But nothing burned like the heat of his attraction; the undeniable pull that his body had to be _inside_ Harry, fucking the breath from his body in wanton moans. Nothing felt as scalding as wanting to get deep inside him and empty his soul, filling Harry up and kissing him quiet, into soft whimpers. Nothing hurt like the ache in his arms from wanting to hold him, to band around him and pull him tightly close to his racing heart, close enough to whisper in his ear as he came undone.

He didn’t register at first that Harry was already on him, pressed up to him and wrapping him into his tired, solid body as he kissed him, one hand mauling his ass as he desperately ground himself against Louis' body with pained moans and harsh breaths between his kisses.

Louis gave into it easily, surging his heat against Harry's belly as Harry lifted him off his feet in a graceful haul.

Louis' fingers threaded into the back of his hair, cap knocked loose but not fallen, annoyingly getting in his way as he tried to focus on grasping his shoulder, his body still propped up against Harry's, helpless to struggle away.

It was Harry who shoved his cap into his jeans pocket, hands going back to cup his ass in a way that helped them to grind together, gasps sharp in the still air.

“They all inside?” Louis refused to open his eyes, kissing down Harry’s bearded jaw with biting urgency.

“Hm?” Harry soothed his grasping hand to a reverent stroke over his thigh.

“The animals,” Louis murmured, sucking a kiss into the crook of his damp, salty neck.

“Pretty sure _we’re _the animals,” Harry secured one hand under his ass and ran the other up his spine to cup the back of neck to kiss him again with a marauding tongue.

Louis tried to wriggle a little to break free.

“Let’s go inside,” he suggested, between gasped breaths.

Harry’s eyes were dark as he nodded, hitching Louis up a little further to carry him in, over his shoulder.

//

Louis had started off fucking Harry over the bathroom counter, but Harry's knees got weak and they were both still wet from their hurried shower, so he spooned him on the bed and eased back inside, hips nudging gently to bring Harry the pleasure their bruising sex usually achieved.

Harry seemed to like it soft and gentle, if the way he completely gave over control to Louis was anything to go by.

He pressed one of Louis' hand over his belly button and pulled the other across his chest to grip as he found the right angle to grind back and the earth came alive when they synced.

“Oh,” Harry's pleasured gasp of air spurred Louis into kissing him where he could reach- his shoulder, his spine. The back of his neck. “Fuck, this is—"

Louis pulsed into him, staying deep as he kissed his neck, slipping out and grinding in again, sliding his knee forward to press Harry into the bed. His fingertips tickled the moon and star, trailed into his navel hair and teased lightly up the underside of his dick as he shifted again, deeper this time.

Harry’s fingers circled his wrist, pulling his hand away from his hot, hard dick and back towards his piercing.

He didn’t need to say the words.

_Touch me._

Louis knew them by heart. He delicately played with the bar until Harry came, muscles prettily seizing with his orgasm as Louis fought off his peak until Harry called his name and then he let himself fall, wrapping himself around Harry like a protective shield, with a kiss to his shoulder.

//

Louis shifted around midnight, stealing Harry’s jumper to brave the kitchen in search of late night snacks, a tray of tea and chocolate cake with a few sausage rolls his best offering.

“Love?” Louis called as he elbowed his way back into the bedroom. “You awake?”

Harry stirred, ass muscles clenching and back muscles flexing as he twisted onto his front.

“Already, Lou?” He propped his cheek on his flat hands.

Louis snorted, clumsily resting the tray on his night stand.

“Don’t think so, Romeo,” he twisted to check on the niggle in his own back. “Think we're both pushing it, already,” he mused.

Harry turned onto his back, muscled thighs parted unembarrassedly to showcase his dick, the belly bar glinting in the light from the lamp.

“I’m a prime male, you know,” he stated.

Louis rolled his eyes.

“Cover it up. It’s distracting.”

“You should give him a Pet name,” Harry suggested as he reached for the covers to drag them lazily over his legs. They rested dangerously low, the dark patch of pubic hair visible above the edge, drawing Louis' gaze upwards over his happy trail and onto his laurel tattoos.

“How about Rocky?” Louis asked drily, eyeing the way Harry’s abdominal muscles shifted as he moved to prop himself up with pillows, accepting a small plate stacked with food.

Harry wrinkled his nose.

“What about Stella?”

Louis choked on his sausage roll, clambering up beside him. Harry’s fingers fondly tugging at the sleeve of his own jumper on Louis' arm had Louis smiling stupidly softly at him.

“I’m not calling your dick a woman's name.”

“Peter?”

“Or a superhero,” he added quickly, chomping messily at the flaky pastry.

“You could just kiss him,” Harry shrugged casually. “I think he likes it when you do that.”

“You think, huh,” Louis licked his finger to gather up the remnants of pastry from his plate.

“I mean, I know _I _do, but I’d hate to speak for Bowie, you know...”

Louis turned to stare at him, all tousled hair and bare skin in lamplight.

“I’m eating my cake and finishing my tea first,” He warned.

Harry chomped on his chocolate cake with a knowing glint in his eye. He lifted the covers.

“It’s alright, Freddie, I think we’ve convinced him...”

Louis shoved his plate to the side and twisted, ready to wrestle Harry into submission.

//

Evie had started to come into the house. She was in the final stages of the programme Harry had designed and he wanted to get her used to other people, and animals eventually.

Louis still wasn’t quite prepared to find Harry in short grey shorts and soft socks, Evie curled over his crotch as he gently petted her, his body stretched out along the couch and his other arm bent at the elbow, fingers propping a book open.

It was a Saturday and Harry was even softer at the weekends if that was possible.

Harry slid the book sideways to look at Louis.

“Everything ok?” He checked.

Louis nodded, noticing the puffiness under Harry’s eyes. He hadn’t slept well despite them sharing a bed more often than not, now.

“You?”

“She’s just having a cat nap,” Harry said.

Louis moved toward the chair and splayed in it with a sigh.

“Think I might get a nap, too.”

Harry frowned a bit.

“Come over here,” he invited. “We'll make room for another kitten...”

Louis snorted, sniffing his clothes.

“Think I need a shower, first,” he decided.

When something warm spooned him later that night, he realised he’d fallen asleep on his bed after his shower. But Harry didn’t seem to mind, nosing into his hair and carefully pulling him close.

//

“So,” Harry rolled the bell-filled ball towards Louis, their feet touching as they sat on the living room floor with Evie contained between the diamond of their legs.

“So,” Louis stopped it and rolled it back, Evie watching it curiously move end to end.

“Is it too soon to ask you out to dinner again?” Harry tinkled the ball for Evie, eyes coyly lifting to peek at Louis.

Louis swallowed.

“No.”

“Okay,” Harry rolled the ball away and this time Evie got up to follow it. “Tomorrow?”

“I’m paying,” Louis replied, rolling the ball back.

Harry was smiling at Evie as she chased it.

“The idea is that whoever asks, pays,” Harry argued.

“Yeah, well. I was an idiot the last time you asked so I think it’s only fair...”

Harry looked at him properly.

“Guess I better wear something nice, then.”

Louis could list Harry's entire wardrobe and it would all be more than nice. Even his yellow shorts. _Especially_ his yellow shorts. His own wardrobe might not fare quite so well.

“Guess you better,” he smiled as Evie pounced on his shin playfully.

//

Louis was just finishing up his chores early to start getting ready for dinner when the sun started to lower in the sky.

Harry was knelt in the paddock with Jennifer when Louis trekked over to fetch him in.

“The table's booked for seven,” he greeted. “You nearly done?”

Harry’s face was lined with concern as he frowned up at Louis.

“She’s in a lot of pain, Lou,” he said, green eyes sorrowful. “We need to think about what’s best for Jennifer,” he broached.

“Oh,” Louis rocked back on his heels as Harry got to one knee and then slowly straightened up.

Harry squeezed his hand.

“It might not mean putting her down,” he murmured. “But sometimes it’s for the best.”

“I know,” Louis nodded, the pain of every hopeless loss he’d experienced at Happy Paws filling his chest.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow?” Harry suggested.

Louis tried to deny the natural _we_ Harry had inserted into his words, how he counted himself a part in the decision of Jennifer’s future. He tried to ignore the way his heart missed a beat at the implications.

He let Harry lead them inside to get ready.


	5. Chapter 5

“Harry, hey!” Nick waved at them from across the street, Harry gritting his teeth and tugging at his suit-jacket anxiously as he gripped Louis' hand that bit harder.

Another few feet and they would have made it inside the restaurant.

“Hi,” Harry nodded, long fingers pushing through his silky, clean hair.

He’d put on a pair of silver sparkly boots that Louis hadn’t seen before, along with a fitted, classic black suit with satin trim to the wide lapels and down the sides of the trouser legs. A black shirt buttoned right up completed his smart look.

“Haven’t seen you for a while,” Nick accused jokingly.

Harry made a point of lifting their joined hands.

“Been kind of busy...”

Nick’s eyes flitted over their hands, giving Louis a cool once-over before returning to Harry.

“Oh. you’re dating _him _now.”

Harry nodded, smiling a little.

“Yeah. I am.”

Nick gave Louis a sideways glance.

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about the sinking ship he’s commandeering,” Nick commented. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a luxury cruiser?”

Harry bit back his urge to snort, shifting to step a little closer to Louis.

“I’m more of a pirate,” Harry replied. “Thanks for the ride, though.”

“You’re welcome,” Nick said as Harry moved to pass him. “Any time,” Nick added as Harry pushed open the door to the restaurant and gestured Louis to step inside first.

//

“Well that was awkward,” Harry quirked his brows as they were seated.

Louis unbuttoned his grey suit jacket and fiddled with the loose button on his white-collar shirt.

“It’s really fine,” Louis promised.

Harry looked at him, disbelieving.

“Look, you kissed the guy,” Louis posed. “But you were also sick as a fucking dog, after,” he added. “Pretty sure that sums up his kissing skill.”

Harry sputtered into a giggling laugh, a loud, stark burst forcing him to grab the menu.

“Can we pretend that didn’t just happen?” Harry begged. “All that stuff about boats?”

Louis ordered a wine and waited for Harry to order his drink before he spoke again.

“Nick's right,” Louis laid it out on the table with a wistful sigh. “I’m not flush with cash and likely never will be,” he shared, defiant in his honesty.

Harry stared at him, brows furrowing.

“You thought I wouldn’t want to date you because of that?”

It wasn’t an accusation but Louis still found his hurt look confusing.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to date me because you told me you were leaving,” he reminded gently.

“I’m rethinking my original position,” Harry mumbled, hand clumsy in grasping his wine glass.

_I want something with you._

“You sure you wouldn’t rather jump ship now?” Louis ventured. “Catch that luxury cruise before it’s too late?”

Harry huffed, dark lashes flicking up. His beard looked tamed, somewhat neatened and trimmed, perhaps. Maybe Louis would get to see his dimples before he hit old age.

“I’ve never been interested in showboats,” Harry smiled slowly, tongue licking over the bottom edge of his upper teeth.

Louis swallowed more wine. That wasn’t _entirely_ true since Harry had been interested enough to kiss Nick at least.

Louis managed a sad smile. Harry looked him in the eye.

“I’m here,” Harry promised. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Louis nodded, appreciating the sentiment. The reality of Harry’s promise was yet to be proved.

“What are you having, love?” Louis went back to his menu. “I’m starving...”

//

“That good, huh,” Louis kissed Harry's palm as his hand quivered post-orgasm, body star-fished on the bed.

Harry flexed his fingertips and drew his hand towards his body to lay it on his chest.

“Really good,” he murmured, tilting his head to check on Louis. “You?”

Louis, smiling like a cat with cream, nestled against his side.

“Think you’ll do,” Louis teased, slowly spreading himself over Harry’s front, merging his lips against Harry's in a lazy post-sex kiss.

“Huh. A plaything, am I?”

Louis grinned, cupping his jaw to kiss him sweetly.

“Oh, far more than that,” he promised.

“A friend with benefits?”

Louis wrinkled his nose.

“More,” he voted.

“Are we back to boyfriends?” Harry wondered. “Because Liam might throw an actual party.”

Louis shrugged, propped on Harry’s chest and dipping his head to Eskimo kiss him. He was reluctant to agree without knowing Harry's feelings on the matter.

“I think he might,” he agreed gently.

“So, are we?” Harry's eyes shifted to his.

“I don’t know, love,” Louis swallowed. “Are we?”

“Want you to be,” Harry whispered.

“You sure?” Louis squinted, gently pushing his hair back to kiss his cheek.

“Say it,” Harry mumbled, body twitching and fingers still mildly tremoring where his hands held Louis gently around the waist.

“Boyfriend?” Louis questioned.

“Yeah,” Harry's lips tugged up in one corner.

“It sounds good,” Louis admitted.

Harry's fingers curved around the back of his neck to steer him into a kiss. Louis hauled himself further up on his long body to bury his fingers in soft dark hair. His body couldn’t deny the naked physical contact with the man he found hellishly attractive. His emotions couldn’t deny the way _boyfriend_ sounded.

“So,” Harry dragged the word from his throat on a deep voice, pecking Louis' lips. “..._boyfriend_...are we going to sleep for a bit?”

Louis grinned, kissing Harry firmly, his tongue dipping in for a taste of his mouth, curling around Harry’s curious tongue while he tried to press himself closer; an impossible wish since he was already plastered against him.

Harry turned a bit to lay him back on the bed, big hands grasping his thighs to drag them around his hips so he could rut his naked dick against Louis', sparking them back into life with slow interest.

“Not as young as I used to be,” Harry mumbled as he wrapped a hand around himself to speed up the process, Louis laying back with a smug smirk and a fully hard dick between his thighs.

“Maybe this is a sign you should ride me,” Louis mused, gripping the bars of the headboard.

“M'tired,” Harry pouted, his left eye drooping a little to evidence that fact.

“Okay, okay,” Louis huffed as though it were of great inconvenience to roll Harry onto the bed and sit atop him. “No biggie...”

Harry smiled slowly, fingertips tracing up his own dick in a move that never failed to have him hard. For some reason, it didn’t have the desired effect. He wriggled and huffed out impatiently.

“Hey,” Louis unfurled Harry's digits, shifting to lean against him, the heat of his own renewed arousal pressed between them. “Let’s just sleep,” he kissed Harry’s perplexed brow, followed by his stubborn-set lips.

“I can do this, Lou,” he promised.

Louis pulled back to look him in the eyes, kissing his mouth, again.

“Never said you couldn’t. But let’s sleep now. And maybe we can, you know...get back to it, later,” he winked.

Harry slung his arms around Louis resignedly.

“Alright,” he mumbled as Louis tucked himself comfortably against him, Harry’s chin settling against the top of his head.

//

Louis woke first, encompassed in Harry’s arms naked and _hot_.

Evie was meowing from the edge of the bed, still unable to make big jumps so Louis twisted and dangled himself over the edge to pick her up, Harry's arms drawing him carefully back when he nearly overbalanced and used his foot to press against Harry's thigh for anchorage.

“We should have a strict no pets in bed rule,” Harry told him as he wriggled back into a comfortable, warm spot.

_We. _Louis' heart fluttered as he met Harry’s warm morning gaze, focused on him and Evie.

“Surely the _size_ of the animal has a bearing on this ruling,” he argued. “Anything over two feet...”

“Technically Tiny Tim would be under that,” Harry mused of the miniature Shetland pony. “And I don’t care _how_ pretty you are, I’m not sharing my bed with anything that lives in the meadow.”

“Technically it’s _my_ bed,” Louis murmured with a slow grin as Harry’s gaze flicked to him and Louis had to ball his hands around Evie to protect her from Harry's weight as he surged to kiss Louis’ mouth.

Harry carefully scooped Evie up in one hand as he kissed Louis awake, both of them unbothered about brushing their teeth. Louis rubbed the inside of his leg over the outer side of Harry’s, toes curling around his ankle bone.

“Kissing me quiet again?” Louis checked, petting a mewing Evie who took the opportunity to dash out of her hiding place, Louis stretching to place her back on the bedroom carpet.

Harry hummed as Louis rolled back toward him, palms finding a quick, happy home on his chest.

“What say you, shall we take up where we left off last night?”

Harry smiled but his eyes ducked away from Louis’ as his arms tightened around his waist.

“Can we sleep a little more?” He bargained, snuggling in.

Louis happily granted his request.

//

“Do you need anything from the chemist?” Louis asked Harry as they jumped out of the truck; Harry having spent the short drive into town snoozing with his arms folded across his chest.

“Uh, I’ll catch you up,” he murmured. “I’m going to get my hair cut first.”

Louis stopped dead in front on the truck where they naturally met after exiting the vehicle.

“What?”

“My hair,” Harry repeated, pointing to it. “I’m getting it cut.”

“Oh,” Louis swallowed, pocketing his hands in his jacket.

Harry arched a brow, dark glasses propped on his head to hold the thick waves of his hair back.

“Is that...okay?” He checked.

“Yeah,” Louis snapped his head up. “It’s your hair. Of course it’s okay. It’s more than okay. I’ll uh...catch you when you’re done,” he forced a smile.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, focusing on him with a twitch of his lips.

“You don’t want me to cut it,” he realised.

“Like I said, it’s your choice.” Louis insisted.

“But?” Harry smirked, stepping closer to cup his shoulder.

Louis looked up, eyes flicking over the attractive curls.

“But I like it,” Louis whispered with a little smile. “A little wild and—" He surged his fingers into the sweet spirals at his nape. “Curly.”

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes but he cocked his hip to slouch into the touch, sliding his arms around Louis' waist. He leaned in to kiss him, the moment charged with a warmth of acceptance rather than a heat of passion but Louis' belly still jumped at the feeling.

Harry pulled away and turned to face the way they needed to walk, fingers tangling with Louis’.

“Why don't you come with me?” He suggested as they began to walk.

“Because I’m not a controlling boyfriend,” Louis teased.

Harry grinned, curling his fingers tight around Louis'.

“You can watch and make sure they don’t take too much off...”

“Refer to my last comment,” he quipped.

“I don’t mind,” Harry shrugged.

Louis bit his lip, eyeing Harry’s profile. He looked a little uncomfortable if Louis had gauged it right. Maybe Harry himself was nervous about getting his hair cut. He didn’t know the barber, after all.

“Might get a trim myself,” Louis decided, glancing away.

He felt Harry’s gaze drift to him. Harry untangled their hands and pressed into his side a bit, sliding his hand into the back pocket of Louis' jeans.

//

“Do you like pesto?” Harry asked as he picked up the small jar to check the ingredients label.

“It’s alright,” Louis side-eyed the jar from further down the aisle where he was selecting Bolognese pasta sauces.

Harry looked up, sliding his dark glasses into his hair.

“Can we get some?” He checked.

Louis nodded and slid the shopping basket along the floor with his toe.

“We should have another date night soon,” Harry suggested, picking up the basket to follow Louis around the corner of the aisle.

“We should,” Louis agreed. “Once Emmett has come to collect the sheep we might actually get time,” he mused.

“I could cook for you at home,” Harry’s voice deepened. “Run us a nice bath...soap your back...”

Louis gave up trying to remember what cereal they needed. He twisted to look up at Harry just as he smiled slowly and shifted to lean in for a kiss.

“Oi, get a room!” Niall's familiar voice cut into the moment, drawing them apart.

“Hey, buddy,” Harry moved to hug him.

“Alright, Hazza?” Niall checked, hugging Louis briefly as well.

“I’m alright,” Harry nodded, slipping his sunglasses on when a couple of customers squeezed by them.

Niall glanced at Louis.

“Alright, Tommo? How’s the farm?”

Louis nodded.

“Good,” he informed, then gestured to Harry. “Harry’s been helping out.”

“Which reminds me,” Niall smirked. “Your boss was out front looking for you. Apparently old man Elmore built a lighthouse in his yard,” he divulged. “Janet wanted pictures and you weren’t answering your phone...”

Harry lifted a brow, not lifting his phone from his pocket.

“I’m busy.”

Niall snorted.

“I can see that,” he gave them both an amused look. “Busy making out. Now, when are you free next?”

Harry smiled fondly at the teasing.

“After this,” he joked. “Why, do we have a gig we need to practice for?”

Niall swallowed.

“No, I just wanted to catch up with ya,” he murmured. “If Louis can spare you,” he added softly.

Harry leaned forward to hug him again.

“Tomorrow?”

“Beer at the pub?” Niall bargained.

“It’s a date,” Harry affirmed, turning towards Louis and then twisting back around. “Actually no...not a _date_ date,” he corrected. “I’m dating Louis,” he added. “In case you didn’t know.”

Niall gave him a look before he burst into raucous laughter, patting Harry on the shoulder as he moved off with a parting wave leaving Harry to stare at Louis with a confused pout.

“What’s funny?” He asked.

“No idea,” Louis consoled him by circling a palm over his back to gently guide him toward the till. “Think we’re done here, don’t you?”

Harry followed him with his heavy booted feet clumping the wooden floors.

//

“Where are you going?” Louis asked when Harry veered left as they got outside the store.

“Barbers,” Harry pointed across the street.

“We’ve just been, love,” Louis smiled kindly. “You forgotten already?”

Harry frowned, glancing across the road and back at Louis in deep concentration.

“We did?” He mumbled, fingers running through his hair. It wasn’t much shorter to notice by feel but it was smooth and smelt nice. “Oh.”

Louis rubbed his upper arm soothingly.

“It’s ok, love. Easy mistake to make. Let’s go home and try those lemon curd tarts you snuck into the basket, eh?”

Harry turned and stared at Louis for a long moment before following him back to the car.

//

“Mmm...” Harry drew Louis tighter into his arms, sliding his leg over Louis' thigh to press into him slightly, pinning Louis beneath him on the bed with a heavy, hot body and a mildly interested dick.

He let his long fingers search out Louis' keen arousal and began to stroke him slow and steady.

“What’s up, love? Not feeling up to it?” Louis asked breathlessly, eyes squeezing shut as he gasped, Harry’s hand combusting heat in his belly.

Harry carried on kissing him, soft lips randomly pressing over his shoulders and chest, aiming back to his mouth while his hand stroked, tighter and quicker than before.

“This good?” He whispered.

Louis half opened his heavy lids, eyeing Harry in his determined task to get him off, nodding his agreement to his pleasure.

“Good,” he panted. “You ok?”

“I’m perfect,” Harry replied, shifting to settle between Louis' thighs, his mouth soon joining his hand.

//

Louis lazily dragged open the bedside cabinet drawer, body twisted away from Harry who slept facing away tucked into himself leaned on his front.

Louis couldn’t help his concerns. Harry hadn’t been turned on earlier and Louis wondered what had caused his lack of desire. Had he tired of Louis already? He seemed happy to partake in sex, even if it meant not actually having it.

Louis clutched the box and poked Harry in the shoulder with it.

“Love? You awake?”

“Am now,” Came Harry’s deep, annoyed voice. “Why am I awake?” He rolled over to face Louis.

Louis jabbed him in the chest with the box.

“This is for you. It’s not a ring,” he added quickly as Harry’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared.

“Okay,” his brows furrowed cutely as he focused on the box, his sleepy eyes meeting Louis'. “What is it?”

“Open it,” Louis giggled, poking him again and this time Harry took it.

Harry opened the box to reveal the gold belly bar decorated with a beautiful rose with stunning diamantes on the petals and the ball stud.

“Wow, that’s...that’s..._Louis_,” he breathed, looking from the box to the man.

Louis shrugged with a proud smile.

“Matches your tattoo,” he said. “You can change yours soon so I thought maybe you’d like something different...”

Louis’ fingertips subconsciously delicately played with the hanging moon and stars at Harry’s belly.

“It’s beautiful,” Harry promised, shifting to kiss him. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Actually,” Louis swallowed, smiling nervously. “It has a meaning,” he ventured. “So that you know that this isn't a fling for me,” he vouched. “I’m committed to making _us_ work. If you need me to come with you when you leave then that’s what I’ll do,” he stated. “I want to give you something to reassure you that I’m here for you no matter what.”

Harry stared at the rose jewellery mutely, tears filling his eyes. He shuffled his feet and set the jewellery carefully on the cabinet before curling himself against Louis' body, wishing he didn’t have to go home at all.

“You cold love?” Louis' hand smoothed over him as he shivered. “You’re shaking?”

Harry sighed, wondering if he should share his innermost thoughts with Louis. He wondered if he should mention the little anomalies he’d noticed in himself the last few weeks, or whether it was silly to even acknowledge it aloud at all. Everyone had weird glitches, right?

“Not cold,” he answered, delaying his full response while he composed his words inside his head.

None formulated and Louis had tightened his hold on him so Harry relaxed into it; afraid and relieved at the same time.

//

“I like this.” Harry’s cheek was smushed against Louis’ chest and his voice was deep; words spaced slowly. It had been two weeks since they’d pledged _something_ to each other in terms of their relationship and life had been ticking by nicely.

“Yeah?” Louis drifted his palm delicately over Harry’s bare back; conscious that the roughness of the skin on his hands would feel sharp against the smooth expanse.

“Mmm,” Harry shifted to press closer.

“I’m glad,” Louis kissed the top of his head; lips met with soft; mussed hair.

“I like being lazy,” he added; lifting his head momentarily to offer a smile that was sleepy and hazed with affection.

“I like you being lazy, too,” Louis smirked, coaxing him to snuggle back into him. Harry did, with a soft; not-quite-contented sigh. Louis waited for him to share whatever was on his mind.

The sudden; jarring vibration of Louis’ mobile had them both startling.

“Fuck,” Louis murmured, resisting the call back to reality. He was quite happy to ignore his obligations for a little longer, especially if the call was from the bank.

“Better get that, Lou,” Harry mumbled.

“Really?” Louis sighed.

“Yeah,” Harry encouraged.

Louis twisted to pick up the mobile handset and answered with a reluctant, “Hello?”

“Louis, I think you should get down here,” Liam’s voice sounded stressed and panicked.

“Down where?” Louis mused. “Liam, what’s going on?”

Louis shifted his eyes to Harry who shifted under his arm; swallowing as he slowly sat up.

“I’m at the gates,” Liam shared. “I can’t get in.”

“You’re not making any sense, Li,” Louis sighed. “The gates are unlocked. Always are, you know that...”

“That’s the thing,” his friend sounded harried as Louis gently parted from Harry and jumped off the bed. He crossed the bedroom to squint into the yard to understand the issue at hand. “I had to lock the gates,” Liam explained as Louis focused on the large gathering of people at the entrance.

“Who’re all those people?” Louis wondered. “Are they protesting, again? Just call the Police,” Louis turned away from the curtains to find Harry frozen on the bed, staring at him with sickly pale skin. It stopped Louis in his tracks.

“They're not protesters, Louis,” Liam told him as his heartbeat got louder in his ears. “They’re media. They're here for Harry,” he sighed. “Apparently he’s famous.”

“Famous?” Louis scoffed, gaze searching Harry’s face for answers. Suddenly; like a complicated, but satisfying puzzle, everything clicked into place. The faint familiarity he’d felt on discovering Harry’s dimples. His inexplicable mystique. The innate talent to heal animals with barely any schooling in the subject. “Fuck.”

“Lou, I’m gonna call the Police, okay?” Liam told him as Louis blinked and breathed and tried not to choke on his own tongue. “Louis?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, finally drawing a breath. “Okay, mate, thanks,” he tacked on before he ended the call and carefully turned his phone off.

He looked back at Harry who looked like a distraught deer caught in headlights and Louis felt his chest spasm painfully hard. _Now he knew. Now he knew why Harry couldn’t stay. Why he had to go. Why he was hiding. Why he tried not to get involved and—_

_Fuck_, he looked desolate, like Louis might be his very last hope and even that was about to disappear. The truth was, Louis didn’t care. He didn't care if Harry was a penniless artist on the run, a royal Prince yearning for reality or—_a fucking TV star_ seeking solace from his fame.

Louis didn’t care because every word he had said when he’d given him the rose still stood. _Every. Single. Word._

He tossed his phone on top of the dirty laundry pile.

“Thought you looked familiar,” he murmured, in his softest voice.

Harry jolted, chin snapping up to showcase frightened eyes.

“I’m—um...I’m—_Fuck,” _he struggled to breathe, hands pressed to his face, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes. “Fuck, I’m _sorry_,” he uttered. “I’m _so_ sorry!”

Louis moved slowly enough not to scare him, climbing on the bed to circle Harry in his arms, squeezing tightly around his body to protect him in the most basic sense.

“They’re not getting in, alright?” Louis hushed him. “Liam’s locked the gates and the Police are on the way. We'll keep them out, okay?”

Harry was shaking, gasping for air, legs pulled up to sandwich Louis' arm between them and his body.

“It’s alright, love. You’re safe here. You came here to hide, didn’t you?” He huffed quietly at the belated realisation, at the words Harry’s own father had spoken all those months ago when Louis had gone looking for the man who was _right in front of him _and he hadn’t known.

“Knew I should have watched the show to catch up,” Louis muttered to himself as he stroked Harry’s hair. “Thought you were cute at sixteen, had no idea you grew up into _this_...”

Harry snorted wetly, sniffling from underneath his hands.

“Do they actually let you go on television looking this good?” Louis mused. “Must be inundated with viewers. Clearly,” he added to himself. “Since that amount of media wouldn’t even show up for the Royal Wedding...”

“There’s—There's not _that_ many,” Harry hiccupped, lifting his flushed, tear-stained face from his hands.

Louis kissed above his eyebrow to soothe the crease, gently thumbing away his tears.

“You didn’t look outside,” he scoffed, swallowing back his emotion. He squeezed Harry with both arms again. “Pretty sure we could make the drive into a mall just like Buckingham Palace. Maybe you can do a royal wave when we drive in and out in the truck? Not sure I can afford to get a limo for you just yet, mind...”

“I can,” Harry whispered, wiping the backs of his hands over his wet lashes.

Louis bit his lip in relief.

“Of course you can, love,” he murmured. “Proper rich boy, eh?”

Harry nodded, looking up finally.

“I can- I can help you _properly _now. Put more money towards the animals that really need it and--"

Louis slid a hand along his jaw until his thumb slotted into the perfect spot, allowing Louis to tilt his face so he could kiss him quiet.

“Shh, love,” he gazed at him reverently. “All this talk of capital gains is ruining the mood.”

Harry sucked his lower lip and sniffed a bit.

“What _is_ the mood?” He ventured.

Louis smiled.

“The mood is that you’re my boyfriend,” Louis stated gently. “And I don’t care who you are, or where you’re from...or what you did. As long as—"

“Are you quoting the _Backstreet Boys_?” Harry frowned.

Louis smirked.

“Louis,” Harry beseeched softly. “Think about it...Think about what this means for you. The kind of _scrutiny_ you’ll come under just for being my boyfriend...Is that what you really want?”

Louis sighed out and rolled his eyes.

“I’m thinking about what this means for _us_,” he corrected. “Because this isn't just about _me_ anymore. You came here to find something and maybe you found it already or maybe you’re still searching...” Louis smiled as Harry began to shake his head. He dipped down for the kiss Harry bestowed on him. “But I meant what I said. I don’t care about your job. Only for the fact it makes you happy-or not- and I’ll support you in whatever you want to do.”

Harry clutched at Louis and shifted them to cuddle together on the bed, his hot cheek pressed right near Louis’ throat and his sniffles settling to infrequent bursts.

“Can we just stay here, in bed?” Harry begged. “Just for a while?”

Louis got up quickly to fetch his phone to communicate with Liam, settling back with Harry in his arms.

//

When Louis strode up the drive to meet the police, the crowds of press were already being escorted up to the main road.

“Mr Tomlinson, I’m PC Warrington.” The presiding Officer introduced himself. “The most we can do is cordon off the pavement leading up the driveway,” he posed. “You’ll need to instruct a lawyer to seek an injunction to keep them off your land.”

“Duly noted,” Louis nodded, his stomach clutching at the thought of the unexpected expense. “I’ve got work to do, Officer, do you need me for anything else?”

“Nope, we’ll get this lot back on the main road and then we'll be off,” the PC confirmed.

“Thanks for your help,” Louis said, turning to start feeding the animals.

//

“You okay?” Liam asked as they convened in the kitchen for afternoon break.

“Yeah,” Louis ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m good. You?”

“I mean...I sort of knew,” Liam shared nervously.

Louis smiled.

“It’s okay,” he assured. “I’m not angry.”

“You both just—seemed perfect for each other and I didn’t want anything to mess it up.”

“Well, it hasn’t,” Louis promised. “Yet,” he added wryly.

Liam rolled his eyes, then his features softened into gentle concern.

“How's Harry doing?”

Louis glanced at the ceiling, wondering the same thing himself.

“It’s a bit of a shock, that’s all. He’ll be okay.”

“He’s got you,” Liam winked.

“Not sure that’s a bonus,” Louis joked.

“It is,” his friend assured.

“Thanks, buddy,” Louis smiled.

“We’ve just got the barn left to do, right?” Liam checked.

“Why don’t you head off?” Louis suggested. “You covered for me this morning so let me do the barn.”

“Alright, if you’re sure...”

“You good?” Louis checked as they walked back into the yard.

“Yeah,” Liam smiled. “Got a date tonight with Sophia,” he named a girl Louis knew from the village who Liam had been chasing for months.

“Come in late tomorrow if you want,” Louis offered. “I can manage until you get in.”

“Cheers, boss,” Liam hugged him before he left, leaving Louis to trek into the barn.


	6. Chapter 6

“Ouch...watch it, hoofy,” Harry hissed as he tried to hurdle a sheep and stumbled into a flock; sending them careening into the barn space.

“Thought you loved _all _of God's creatures?” Louis smirked.

“I’m taking sheep off the list,” he stated seriously.

Louis plucked a lamb from the ground and hoisted her up in his arms.

“Even the baby ones?” He pouted for effect, the lamb bleating helplessly.

Harry blinked.

“Alright, maybe not the baby ones,” he decided, moving towards Louis to cuddle the animal.

Louis handed her over.

“That’s Mary,” Louis shared.

“Mary _had_ the lambs,” Harry derided.

“It's called irony,” Louis teased. “Look it up.”

Harry petted the lamb with soft baby-talk.

“She’s in good health considering,” Harry observed.

“We try,” Louis smiled.

Harry smiled back.

“Can I do anything to help?”

“I’m nearly done, actually,” Louis assured.

“I’ll get dinner on, then,” Harry jammed his hands into his parka jacket pockets. “While you clean up.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Louis pressed a kiss to his cheek, turning to finish his work.

//

“Yeah...I don’t know how they found me. Someone must have recognised me. No...no it wasn’t Louis. Dad...I know, okay? He’s had three months to sell me out, why would he do it now?”

Louis clicked the back door shut to signal his appearance, Harry’s voice carrying through from the lounge.

“Look, I’ll have to call you back tomorrow. I’m waiting for Tom to call with a press plan,” Harry told his father while Louis slid off his shoes and jacket. “I love you too. Alright...bye, Dad.”

Louis looked up with a feigned, wry smile as Harry appeared in the archway.

“Hey.”

Harry walked into the kitchen and toward him, wrapping Louis straight into his arms. He held him tightly with a desperate squeeze; a resigned sigh leaving his lips.

“I’ll probably have to go home,” he said.

Louis swallowed.

“Okay.”

“Just to see my Dad,” he pulled away, fingers grasping the fabric of Louis' top. “Only for a couple of days."

“It’s okay,” Louis promised. “We’ll still be here when you get back.”

“We?” Harry tilted his head bemusedly.

A small meow reminded him of his newly acquired pet.

“Of course, how could I forget darling Evie?” He let go of Louis to lift her up.

“And Tim and Jennifer and—"

Harry stuck his tongue out.

“Good job they’re not guys or I might get jealous,” Louis joked.

“Not planning on snogging any cows, Lou,” he smirked.

He looked irresistible in checked pyjamas trousers and a white t-shirt; something that Louis assumed was to do with the media presence since it still felt tropical in the house. But his bare feet curled cutely like his hair and Louis just wanted it to always look that way when he came inside from a hard day working.

He watched Harry for a moment to assess his emotional status, finding him relaxed and at ease which was reassuring.

“Right I’m just getting washed up,” Louis left the pair of them to play as he headed up the stairs.

//

“Thank you for being so understanding about all this,” Harry casually flipped a hand to signal the horde of paparazzi surging against the truck to try and snap a picture of Harry as they re-entered the drive from a trip into town.

Harry had caught the train to London to meet with Tom Fitzgerald, the studio press officer, to discuss the clean-up plan. There had been a lone photographer at the station but Harry knew he couldn’t hide anymore. He just _wanted _to, that’s all.

“They're just people,” Louis shrugged. “They don’t bother me.”

Harry watched him from the passenger seat.

“You’re really not bothered about being pictured?”

Louis looked over to give him a warm smile.

“With you? Think I’ll cope,” he murmured.

“I—I should have told you,” Harry twisted to look through the back window to check the photographers hadn’t encroached onto the drive.

“Nah,” Louis reached across the centre console to squeeze Harry’s knee. “It was much more fun this way.”

Harry looked at the side of his face until Louis glanced at him with a wink. Harry chucked out a breath.

“Tom’s going to release a statement in tomorrow’s papers. He’s already got his people preparing for follow-up stories. I think if I lay low for a while, it might blow over.”

“Follow up stories?” Louis pulled the handbrake on after he parked near the back door of the house.

Harry swallowed, brows furrowing.

“They’ll look for stuff on you,” he mumbled. “Find people you went to school with or had McDonald's with once who'll suddenly become the source of knowledge on your character.”

“Oh,” Louis took a breath, popping the door to slide out of the truck. He came around Harry’s side to open his door when Harry didn’t appear under his own steam.

He was still strapped into his seat, fingers trembling nervously in his lap.

“Hey, it’s okay, love,” Louis reached up to curve a hand over his thigh, the other reaching farther up to tangle in his curls. “Told you that. I’m not bothered.”

“They'll-" Harry’s voice was gritty and thick as he swallowed down the wad in his throat. “They’ll keep digging, Louis. They’ll keep looking until they find someone with even a hint of scandal and they’ll blow it up into epic proportions.”

“Eh...I’ve always wanted to be on the receiving end of a juicy kiss and tell,” he shrugged.

Harry's eyes looked sorrowful as they focused on Louis.

“You should start thinking about the possibilities. Things in your past that they could get hold of. It’s easier to deal with it if we have a heads up.”

Louis curled his lower lip over his upper one and shifted to reach into the truck to release Harry’s belt gently.

“What I want you to do, love, is hop out of the truck,” Louis told him gently.

“Louis, you’re not _listening_ to me,” Harry stared at him. “_Think. _Is there anything at all in your past that they can use against you?”

“I’m listening,” Louis promised. “I’ll recall all my devious encounters when we get inside, but we need to actually _get_ inside for that to happen.” He teased softly.

Harry nodded and shifted to clamber out of the truck, Louis leading him up to the house with an arm around his waist.

//

Louis leaned on the archway that led from the kitchen to the lounge, eyes raking over Harry's sleeping form, tucked up on the couch with a blanket that Louis had draped over him an hour ago when he’d found him asleep.

He turned back toward the kitchen and slipped out of the door, grabbing his jacket and truck keys on the way.

//

“Hey,” Harry shifted onto his back, rubbing his eye sleepily as Louis perched at the foot of the couch, Harry’s feet tucked cutely together in the corner.

“Hey,” Louis smiled, tugging down the blanket as Harry’s arms got tangled in it. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Harry shifted to sit up a bit, placing one foot to the floor.

Louis shuffled into the gap between his thighs.

“Come here,” he invited, opening his arms.

Harry looked at him for a long moment and then enveloped Louis into his body with a tired sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for, love?” Louis stroked the back of his head.

“Earlier,” Harry mumbled.

“Ah. That,” Louis rubbed his back soothingly.

Harry pulled away to clutch into Louis’ red knit sweater.

“I haven’t even got an excuse,” he mused. “It’s not as though the press have ever outed me or portrayed my partners in a bad way. It’s just that...I didn’t want them to find a reason to start,” he flicked his eyes up to meet Louis'. “They turned on me after the accident so it’s my fault that they’d even be looking for bad stuff and I don’t care, Lou. I don’t care about any of it, but I care about _you_. And what they make you out to be.”

“Well, I went to see Niall while you were lazing around and he reckons the village is doing a roaring trade thanks to all the extra visitors coming through. He also said they’re running a bet as to who gets quoted in the papers, first...”

Harry stared at him, confused.

“What?”

“There’s a second punt on who can say the wankiest thing and still make it to print,” Louis smirked. “They’re currently competing to make me sound like the village martyr.”

“But—They’ll just try harder to find the dirt, Lou, they'll-"

Louis kissed him.

“The third line of wagers is about the secret to your mystique. The front runner is that you're a vampire,” Louis grinned, cupping the back of his neck. “You might want to think about changing your earring, love,” he added. “Pretty sure they’ve got you mixed up with a movie character...”

Harry’s lashes flickered, throat dry as he tried to swallow.

“You're—” he paused, eyes dipping so that his lashes touched his cheeks and lifted, eyes wide. His lips tugged the tiniest bit in one corner. “You’re really stubborn,” he murmured, a soft accusation.

“Me?” Louis scoffed, earning a strengthening smile from Harry. “Don’t think so, Haz. Think you’ve confused me with someone else.”

Harry’s lips pulled into a genuine, dimpled smile, Louis' thumb rasping over his stubble.

“Does this mean you’re going to shave, now?” He wondered.

Harry grinned, fingers tugging at Louis' jumper.

“Why, are you worried about stubble-burn?”

“Hey, it’s called _burn _for a reason,” Louis argued. “Some of us _working men _have to hike about in denim all day. I didn’t even know what _chafe_ meant until I met you...”

“Glad I could introduce you to the pleasure,” Harry smirked.

“Think that’s just an invitation for me to repay the favour,” Louis denoted, shifting to press Harry back on the couch.

“No!” Harry huffed out in a breathy laugh. “Louis, that wasn't—! Stop,” he giggled, thighs pressing into Louis' hips as Louis surged over him, peeling his t-shirt up to scrape his bristle against Harry’s ribs.

“H-hey,” he gasped, toes curling at the electric sensation coiling across his skin. “_Fuck_...”

“Oh, I can tell you really hate it,” Louis smiled smugly as Harry hardened against his hip, Louis cupping over his semi with a questioning arch of his brows.

“Detest it,” Harry pressed Louis' hand against himself, adjusting his hips to arch into the touch.

Louis dipped down to kiss his skin, gently swirling the rough prickle of his beard as he went, Harry’s belly glowing a pretty pink when he lifted himself to kiss him; Harry’s fingers slipping up into his hair messily when their mouths met in a hungry kiss.

Louis hitched a noise in his throat, leaning down to prop on his elbow to kiss him more deeply, fingers burrowing into the back of his hair to cushion his head. Harry squeezed his backside as Louis untied his slouch pants and tugged down his boxer shorts to wrap his hot fingers around him, Harry's skin even hotter as he stroked.

When their eyes met, Louis felt the gravity of it hit him in the chest; Harry’s trust implicitly given to him to allow their intimacy. He had wondered, after the media leak, whether Harry would retreat from him. Whether he'd want to just go back home and pretend Doncaster never happened. Pretend _Louis _never happened. 

Someone had recognised him and cunningly shared his location and Louis wouldn’t blame him for wanting to get the hell out.

But Harry was right there underneath him, cupping his face in gentle hands and kissing Louis like it was his last wish. Like kissing Louis was all there was in life.

Louis kissed him back with the same kind of abandon, fingers working him over to get him to his peak.

“Lou,” Harry gasped against his ear, knees digging into Louis' sides as he fought off his orgasm.

“Yeah, love?” Louis kissed him.

“Tell them...Tell them I’ve got a big dick, hm?” Harry gasped out, earning a playful bite on his chest from Louis.

“I’ll tell them you’re a fucking tease,” Louis warned, feeling the gentle tremors building in Harry’s body.

Harry’s lips split into a wide grin, nostrils flaring and mouth opening in soft “Oh’s" as he spurted over Louis' fist; thighs quivering as they clung weakly to his body in the aftermath.

Louis kissed him softly as he weighed down on him gently, the heat of his own arousal zipped uncomfortably tight in his jeans.

Harry blinked open his eyes.

“If you jizz on me I’m telling the papers you’re a dirty farm boy.”

Louis smirked and shifted to get to his knees to unzip his jeans.

//

Evie was mewing at Harry’s heels as he and Louis headed to the paddock to accustom Tim to having more than one person enter his pen at a time.

Once they had let Tim approach them to familiarise himself; they began to walk in a slow circle opposite each other; like two planets on the same course.

“Did you um…Did you know that I had a car accident?” Harry broached; a small fact that had been printed in several of the papers that they had both read but Louis hadn’t asked him about. Harry got the impression that Louis held back from asking questions until Harry spoke first; rather than being disinterested altogether.

“Only from the trashloids,” Louis quipped. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

He looked up just as Harry’s gaze dipped towards Tim; the small animal trotting about curiously to investigate their travelling motion.

“I—I’m not really sure what happened,” Harry admitted quietly; a pained look crossing his face. “I wasn’t drunk and I wasn’t speeding, but I lost control,” he winced. “They think that I might have accelerated after blacking out, but nobody could give an explanation as to why I might have fallen unconscious...”

“Jesus,” Louis looked up sharply and Tim mock-charged him; gently butting into his shin. Louis bent down to stroke him until he was soothed, then started walking again. Harry peeked at him.

“I hit a tree,” he softly added. “When I was found, they couldn’t work out how it happened.”

“You couldn’t remember?” Louis asked softly.

Harry shook his head.

“I was in hospital for six days,” he shared. “I had bleeding on my brain from the impact and I had an operation to drain the blood. It was—” He swallowed again; the words appearing difficult to pass his throat. “It was lucky I didn’t just slip into a coma, they said.”

Louis looked at him; sorrowful and awed.

“I can understand why you wanted to hide after that,” he mused.

Harry playfully chased after Tim to lift him up.

“It was the only thing that made sense,” he sighed. “When the studio sacked me, I felt lost, you know?”

Louis _did _know.

“You know, I got sacked from my high-profile job, too,” he offered as he leaned back on the fence while Harry and Tim bonded.

Harry looked up. “You did?” He walked over to pass Tim to Louis. Tim eyed him distrustfully but Louis cradled him all the same, with a soft greeting of “Hey, love.”

“I did,” Louis smirked. “About seven years ago, before I registered this place officially; I was still working at the same job I’d had since leaving Uni. At a corporate stock-market company,” he added. “I had a bit of experience in crunching numbers- not that it’s really helped me,” he derided. “But I couldn’t stick the politics of working in an office. And eventually I snapped. They gave me a month’s notice and I just walked out of there without working it.”

Harry softened into a knowing smile.

“Sounds like you took control of your destiny.”

“So did you,” Louis frowned.

“No, I ran away from it,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Haz, just because you walked away doesn’t mean you’re any less brave,” Louis promised. “It takes a fuck load of courage to put yourself first.”

“They said I was drunk,” His face creased; eyes sad. “I haven’t _ever_ taken a drink and gotten behind the wheel of a car, you know?”

Louis nodded again; gently putting Tim down so that he could free his arms to hold Harry. He tiptoed to fold his arms around his wide shoulders the best he could.

“Don’t let those fuckers get to you,” he begged. “Nobody is perfect, we all make mistakes. And you don’t know that you _did_,” he added. “Anything could have happened, and it might not have been your fault. So,” he pulled away to roll back on his heels; bopping Harry on the nose with his fingertip. “None of that pouty lip, hm?”

Harry’s lips pulled into a reluctant smile; eyes creasing in the corners.

“I suppose you’re right…”

“You _suppose_?” Louis’s brows lifted in mock-insult. “Oh, you have much to learn, young Harold,” he teased. “I’m _always_ right,” he added with a wink to prove he was joking.

“It’s just—” Harry paused again, fighting his conscience to speak aloud his fears. “It was hard,” he managed in a whisper. “So hard.”

Louis cupped his neck, thumb sliding over his jaw.

“Yeah, I can bet they made a real field day of that bullshit they made up,” he empathised.

“I mean…recovering;” Harry amended; eyes shifting away to trace Tim’s location in the enclosure. “I wasn’t myself for a while and—I’m not sure I ever got all of the old me back after the surgery.”

Louis leaned up to kiss him; just gently; on the mouth.

“You’re a new you and that’s okay, too.”

“But what if the new me isn’t as good?” He questioned; eyes locking with steady blue.

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Louis promised. “Here on this farm, you get loved no matter what.”

Harry’s lips pressed together; brows furrowing thoughtfully and then he sucked a breath in through his nose. He reached forth to pull Louis into another tight hug; his sigh let out beside Louis’ ear; lips brushing his skin and hair.

“Thank you, Lou,” Harry murmured. And in his mind it might have sounded like _I love you _instead.

“You’re welcome, love,” Louis squeezed him. “Now, let’s leave Timmy to sulk while we get some lunch on,” he patted Harry’s behind fondly before pulling away.

//

“I never had a clue! The guy turned up looking like a bum and said he could play a guitar...didn’t worry me where he was from,” Niall shrugged convincingly in his charade, Channel Four News his willing audience.

Louis rolled his eyes and squeezed past the crowd to get to the bar to order a quick beer. The news outlets would soon enough find out that Niall had in fact known Harry for _years, _unbeknownst to every resident in the village. Louis had only found out from Harry himself that morning.

Harry had opted to stay at the farm until the furore died down, his father, Des, arriving at the weekend to visit.

Louis felt nerves flutter in his belly at the thought of meeting him again. How would Des feel about Louis? Did he know he and Harry were _together_? Would he mind that Louis was poor?

Louis garnered the attention of Dev and leaned on the counter while he waited for Niall to finish up.

“Excuse me, sir,” a young, smartly dressed woman squeezed in beside him. “Do you know Harry Styles?”

Louis eyed her, subtly assessing. Clearly a showrunner, tasked to go around the crowd and find people who had spoken to the sought-after TV star.

“Sorry, I live out in the sticks,” he told her.

She marked something on her clipboard.

“Can we take a name in case we need to make further contact?”

“Jack Dawson,” he smiled innocently.

Louis was just laughing with Dev when Niall plopped beside him with a huff.

“I’m gonna be on TV!” He beamed. “Made sure to mention the shelter,” he added firmly.

Louis eyed him amusedly, ordering another beer.

“Why don’t you come back to the farm with me for dinner,” Louis suggested. “The cows would love to see you.”

“The cows?” Niall repeated, dumbly, meeting Louis' gaze. “O-_oh_. The _cows. _Well, how are the _cows_?” Niall winked, sloshing his drink over his hand.

Louis flattened his hand and tipped it side to side.

“So-so. Could use a pick me up.”

“Right, then I’ll come back with ya,” Niall promised.

Louis paid for their drinks and sipped his own.

//

“Where is the gorgeous bastard, then?” Niall stormed into the farmhouse to search for Harry.

“Think he’s up in the paddock,” Louis mused, noticing Harry’s wellies missing by the mat.

“I didn’t sign up for gettin’ dirty,” Niall turned to head back outside with a resigned huff.

//

“Who's that little fella?” Niall let himself into the paddock to fuss Jennifer, Harry kneeling in an adjoining enclosure with possibly the smallest horse Niall had ever seen.

“This is Tiny Tim,” Harry told him, arms wrapped around the miniature creature as he murmured into his mane. “He’s a miniature Shetland, almost small enough to beat the World record. He suffers with his nerves from being so small.”

Niall walked over slowly, leaning on the fence.

“He does?”

Harry looked up; a grey tweed cap pulled over his hair.

“It’s common in small pony breeds to feel overwhelmed. They’re not prey animals by nature but their size often means they’re easily injured by bigger animals. Tim was kept in a travelling show for a long time. He doesn’t like people and noise...”

“Eh, poor fella,” Niall mused. “I love it myself.”

Harry rolled his eyes and set the pony down gently, stroking him until he moved away of his own volition.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Harry commented as he latched the gate.

Jennifer galloped over to earn Harry’s hand in her mane.

“Yeah, well. Didn’t want you thinking us townies had abandoned your rich-boy ass,” he winked.

“How’s it been?” Harry asked cautiously.

“Didn’t Louis tell ya? We’re _loving _it. It’s so easy to wind them up. They’ll believe _anything _you tell them. I had one journo _convinced _the other day that you were really a descendent of a pirate and that you carry an eye patch in your front jeans pocket at _all _times...”

Harry couldn’t help his snorted giggle.

“You’ll get into trouble,” Harry smiled, walking down to the enclosure gate now that Jennifer was appeased.

“Nah. You've got to be an idiot to believe that,” Niall argued.

“I mean, it’s obvious I’m not a pirate,” Harry gestured for Niall to pass through the gate first. “More a vampire, I’d say...”

“Louis did tell ya!” Niall span to accuse him with a laugh. “Look, I’ll cut you twenty percent of the makings if you don’t break up the betting pool,” he bargained.

“Fifty,” Harry bartered. “The money goes to the shelter,” he added, fishing out his wallet to push four fifties into Niall's palm. “I want two hundred on you being the first to get in print.”

Niall stared at him and swallowed, fingers slowly tightening around the notes.

“I’ll write you a receipt later,” Niall confirmed.

“I trust you,” Harry glanced over with a small smile tucked into the corners of his mouth.

“I told Channel Four today about the band,” Niall boasted as they strode across the yard.

“Not sure I can play for much longer,” Harry pointed out.

“Hey, don’t think you’re leaving to go solo just because you’re famous, now, “ Niall accused. “No single member is bigger than the band. You'll get your lazy hide to practice until we kick you out, got it?”

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, twisting to meet Niall’s determined gaze.

“Got it.”

Niall flapped his arm out so that his elbow nudged Harry’s, both their hands pocketed to keep warm.

“So, you good?” Niall asked more quietly.

Harry nodded, glancing away.

“Yeah. You?”

“Well I’ll tell ya,” Niall huffed, drawing a smile from Harry’s lips. “I’ll be glad when winter's over, all this cold weather is causing me stress getting Joanne started...”

“Your-?”

“Car, of course,” Niall snorted as they kicked off their shoes by the door, Harry pausing to tidily stack his wellies.

“There you both are,” Louis stood up from the table with a pensive look; newspapers folded neatly in a stack on the table top.

Harry let his gaze flick from them to his boyfriend, not bothering to remove his coat or hat to hug him. Louis shivered in his arms.

“You’re freezing, love,” he rubbed his arms and back as he pulled away. “Go and put a hoodie on...”

Harry rolled his eyes at Niall with a sheepish smile, padding upstairs to get warm layers.

//

“Let’s have at'em then Louis,” Niall drummed his fingers on the table as Harry stacked the dishwasher.

“You want to read them now, Haz?” Louis checked.

Harry smiled weakly but nodded, sitting right beside Louis so that their thighs pressed together and he could grasp his hand.

Louis pushed the stack to Niall.

“You read them, Nialler.”

Niall cracked his knuckles and reverently unfolded the first one.

“Ooh, front page,” he murmured. “Okay here goes:

_Today The Sun can exclusively reveal the whereabouts of shamed ex-TV star, Harry Styles._

_Styles went into hiding after a drunken car crash that nearly killed him and several other road-users. He was thought to have skipped the country for a life of luxury on the Spanish coast._

_Styles was found holed up in the humble town of **Doncaster**, rumoured to be contemplating a career change by taking up a post at the local newspaper._

_Scandalously it appears that Styles has quickly familiarised himself with the locals; with several females giving sordid details of his sexual encounters with them.”_

“Who the f—”

Niall's uncomfortable giggle interrupted Louis' outrage.

“There’s a fourth bet,” he grinned. “Best fake kiss and tell.”

“I’m gay,” Harry pouted. “Everyone knows I’m gay, I’ve never tried to hide it...”

“Don’t worry, a few guys pitched in,” Niall winked and Harry shifted in his seat, shoulders tensing.

“It isn't a _game_,” he complained. “My sexuality is something I’ve never been ashamed of.”

“Hey, look,” Niall lifted the next paper off the pile. “This one's got you and Lou on the front page, so no need to worry. I’ll close the bet down,” he promised.

Harry reached for the other paper while Niall finished reading The Sun to himself.

**Harry’s Sweet Creature**

Harry showed the headline to Louis, a picture of Harry with his long hair positioned beside a picture of Louis from the day he opened the shelter; a checked jacket zipped up, worn over pale blue jeans.

“Original title,” Harry noted.

Louis took the paper gently from him to read aloud.

“_Harry Styles has been spotted in the city of Doncaster, holed up with his secret boyfriend, animal lover Louis Tomlinson._

_Tomlinson, 36, registered Happy Paws as a charity six years ago and there’s no doubt that Styles' expertise will come in handy to rescue the ailing farm_.”

Louis paused, body twitching. Harry slipped the print from his fingers.

“_The charity has been on the brink of closing for two years with Tomlinson scraping together the cash required to keep his bank loan in the black after several letters of eviction were issued. _

_The question is whether Louis' affections are genuine or whether he’s just using Styles' abundant bank balance to keep his rag-tag farm afloat._”

Harry placed the paper on the table with a frown, lips twisting as his nostrils flared to take in air, his chair noisily scraping back on the floor as he thrust himself up. His long legs dashed in a hurry, feet softly tumbling up the stairs, leaving Louis and Niall staring at each other across the table.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of health issues

“Hey, Hazza, you comin' out to say goodbye?” Niall knocked tentatively on his bedroom door.

The muted thud of feet preceded the door opening. Harry was sat back on his bed by the time Niall stepped inside.

“Louis isn’t after your money,” Niall vouched.

Harry frowned, glaring at him.

“I know.”

“Then why did ya rush off like that? He’s shitting himself down there...”

“What?” Harry gasped. “No that’s not—_fuck. _That’s not why I left. Jesus Christ,” he added in a hiss.

“Why did ya?” Niall asked again.

“Because,” Harry folded his arms. “Because I warned him that those vultures would use any fucking excuse to drag his name through the mud and- and he didn’t tell me,” Harry pouted. “He didn’t tell me about the debt.”

Niall nodded, swallowing as he eyed Harry thoughtfully.

“Louis is a very proud man, Harry. He hasn’t told anyone about how bad things are, not even his oldest friends. It’s not—it’s probably not somethin' he wanted you to worry about. And he definitely wouldn’t want you helping him out, so...”

“I _should_ be helping him out,” Harry argued. “I’m his _boyfriend._”

“He’s also just got accused of being a gold-digger,” Niall reasoned. “And he hasn’t even took your money.”

“He didn’t know I was famous,” Harry mumbled. “There was no reason for me to question his motives.”

“Ah, right,” Niall nodded, comforting himself on the bed. “So all those years ago when we were in College and you were eating Super Noodles before you made your millions and I came along with my inheritance and offered to get your groceries every week and you said no...that wasn’t just as hurtful to me?” He posed.

Harry's brows furrowed on concentrating on his speech, the reason behind his words dawning clearly on his face.

“You weren’t upset about that, were you?” He beseeched.

Niall chuckled and grasped his ankle.

“Did you notice me sneaking things into your cupboard?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Just didn’t bother to argue since you’d gone to all that effort to be sly...”

“Damn right I did. I had to steal your room key from reception every Friday and get it back on Monday morning before the Secretary noticed it missing.”

Harry chewed on his lip.

“I need to sneak money into the charity account.”

Niall laughed, eyeing Harry bemusedly when he didn’t laugh back.

“You’re right, Niall. All I need to do is be sly. He’ll never know...”

“I—er...”

“You’re a genius,” Harry breathed, getting up to pull Niall to his feet and into a hug.

Niall patted his back.

“Go and talk to Louis,” Niall instructed before he left.

//

“I know you’re not a gold digger,” Harry stepped into the kitchen to announce, Louis' back to him as he stared at the kettle.

Louis jolted at the sound of his voice, turning toward Harry with a cautious frown.

“You do?”

Harry rolled his eyes and walked forward until he had Louis tight in his arms.

“You should have told me,” he whispered into Louis' hair.

Louis pulled away, making tea when Harry slouched back against the counter.

“I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” Louis murmured. “Didn’t think they’d actually get a hold of my private bank statements.”

“We can still stop this now,” Harry offered, fidgeting with his ear stud. “I can put out another statement and they’ll leave you alone.”

Louis twisted to give him a hurt look.

“You want to end it?”

“No,” Harry forced out on a wobbly voice. “But you don’t deserve this, Lou.”

Louis sighed, sliding a cup towards Harry.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Louis considered. “Only if we let it.”

Harry bit his lip and nodded.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have walked out.”

Louis sipped his tea.

“I put the other papers in the burning pile,” he shared. “Think we’ve had enough light reading for one day.”

Harry huffed, reaching for Louis' hoodie to tug it fondly.

“Can we spoon tonight?”

Louis’ smile started around the curve of his cup.

//

“We’ve had six requests this morning already,” Liam babbled to Louis while they climbed the field to feed the cows. “They're bringing _fan mail _to the gate. There’s a shrine building as we speak...”

“Does Harry know?” Louis checked, eyeing Liam worriedly.

“I just gave him the mail,” Liam explained.

“What are the requests for? He’s not Jesus, he can’t heal the dying.”

“Surgery, mostly,” Liam told him. “He’s a popular guy apparently.”

Louis nodded, draining the water trough and turning on the outside tap to refill it using the hose he’d set up for exactly that purpose.

“How are you processing all of this?” His friend asked carefully.

“I’m just worried about Harry,” Louis murmured. “I thought we'd get through this unscathed but already it’s taking a toll.”

“His Dad's coming tomorrow, isn’t he?” Liam reminded. “I’m sure he'll bring some perspective.”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, feigning confidence. “How did it go with Sophia, anyway?” He changed the subject.

Liam’s smile split his face.

//

“I know you,” Des Styles tilted his head as Louis went to shake his hand.

Louis smiled wanly, Harry’s avid gaze on him.

“Lou?”

“Ah, yeah...I might have gone to Holmes Chapel looking for a Super Vet,” Louis admitted sheepishly. “Hadn’t realised you were right under my own nose.”

“And body,” Harry mumbled, earning an eye roll from his father.

“This is the gentleman I told you about,” Des smiled. “The one I was trying to hook you up with...”

“Oh,” Harry frowned, confused. “Surprise!” He added brightly.

Louis glanced between them.

“This is weird.”

“You impressed me, Louis,” Des admitted. “Without even knowing my son you showed more empathy for him than most.”

Louis swallowed nervously.

“I kind of fell for him, too,” he added quietly.

Harry’s gaze shot to him.

“I can think of worse men to date my son,” Des smiled.

Louis nodded once, acknowledging the compliment.

“Good to know.”

“Now,” Des cleared his throat. “It looked like your barn could use some repair.”

Louis pocketed his hands with a wry smile.

“We’re struggling to find investors in Happy Paws at the moment...”

Harry glanced at his Dad; silently pleading him not to comment on Louis’ financial situation.

The older man turned toward the door. “I’m going to go and assess the damage and see what you have to fix it....”

Louis turned to Harry with a hopeful smile.

“I think he likes me.”

Harry huffed, cupping Louis’ face to kiss him.

“I can’t believe you already met him. Why didn’t you say?”

“Surprise!” Louis whispered, echoing Harry’s words.

Harry smiled, eyes dipping to his mouth.

“I’m falling too, you know.”

Louis’ eyes flicked up.

“Yeah?”

Harry nodded, drawing him close for a longer, deeper kiss, an answering ‘Yeah,’ mumbled against Louis' lips.

//

Louis went down the drive to the cordon to check on the state of play while Harry had a private breakfast with his Dad.

The shrine Liam had spoken about was a stack of bouquets interspersed with signs and letters for Harry, drawings and cards wedged in plastic folders to keep them from the rain. It was early and only a couple of hardened paps were sat there, lazily photographing Louis as he collected up the paraphernalia, selecting a couple of the freshest bouquets to take back to the house.

The request letters were there, too. A small wooden box had been lashed to the tree at the entrance to the drive acting as a rudimentary mail-box and Louis made a mental note to fix something more secure in place since they'd likely be receiving a lot more mail from now on.

He nodded to the photographers and carried the mail up to the house.

//

Harry sat with shaky hands and tears in his eyes, shuffling through the letters begging for his help.

“Hey,” Louis came in from organising the barn-repair project Des had heartily started, Niall and Liam magically employed from nowhere. “Love, what’s wrong?”

Harry sniffed, shakily wiping away tears.

“I can’t do it,” he whispered. “I can’t do what they’re asking me to do...”

“That’s okay,” Louis mused, sitting beside him to wrap his arm around Harry’s shoulders, sliding the letters from his grip. “ You’re not super-human no matter what some people might think.”

“Ever since the accident—I...I haven’t been the same, you know?” He sniffled.

“You hit your head pretty bad, love,” Louis soothed. “It’s going to take a while to get over the shock.”

Harry shook his head.

“It’s more than that. I can’t do what I used to do. I mean...what if I can’t operate anymore?”

Louis rubbed his arm, fingers naturally gliding through his thick hair.

“The last few days have been pretty epic,” Louis reasoned. “And I can only imagine what it’s like, feeling like you have this obligation to your fans just because they support you. But you’re one man, Harry. Not a super-hero. It's not up to you to solve their problems. You came here to get a rest from that. Why don't you let me take care of you for a while?” Louis kissed his temple lovingly.

“You already are,” Harry argued.

“Right,” Louis hummed. “Then do I need to filter your fan-mail? Because I’m not happy about seeing you like this, love.”

“I just—what if it's—”

“Louis!” Liam’s urgent voice accompanied his panicked rush into the kitchen. Louis looked up just as Liam surged into the living room.

“Is it Des?” Louis stood up, heart squeezing.

“No, he’s fine,” Liam shared breathlessly. “But Fernando broke through the fence. You know the part that got weakened in the rain?”

“Shit,” Louis hissed, fingers digging into his hair.

“Who's Fernando?” Harry stood up to ask.

“The bull,” Liam told him.

“You’ve got a bull?”

“In the west field,” Louis muttered.

“Now the east field,” Liam corrected. “With the cows...”

Louis rushed into the kitchen to put on his boots and jacket, Harry sticking his foot in a welly before Louis stopped him.

“Thought we just agreed to you resting,” he chided.

“But this is an emergency,” Harry said. “And I can help.”

Louis sighed.

“There’s no question that you can help,” he assured. “But you’re just _not_, okay? Not this time. Your Dad's outside and he can give us pointers. Can you stay here and get some cocoa on for when we're finished?” Louis asked.

Harry drew his foot slowly out of the boot and nodded.

“Thanks, love,” Louis kissed his cheek and dashed outside.

//

The bull was chasing cows around the field when Louis got there.

Des had followed the three of them up, Louis holding the strong leather harness they had used to move Fernando into his enclosure.

Louis silently berated himself for not getting the fence fixed. He was just waiting on the next donation to buy the wood.

“He looks mad as hell,” Niall commented.

“He’s horny and he’s not getting any,” Louis murmured. “Think you’d be pretty wound up, too...”

Des' dry chuckle subdued Louis.

“Not that I uh...”

“It’s alright, Louis,” Des smiled. “Just relax.”

Louis began to hike up the field with the harness, the four of them closing in like a web on Fernando as the cows scattered out of the way.

Louis dove to avoid Jezebel as she stormed, heavy-hooved across the grass. His knee twisted painfully as he fell in the grass but he got himself up and hid the residing pain as he walked on.

“C'mon Ferny,” Louis coaxed to the snorting bull. “You got in the girl's field but it’s time to be escorted out...”

Louis crept up his left side while Fernando stomped, nervously glancing at each of the approaching humans.

“We’re all good,” Louis soothed. “We’ll find you a nice place to live where the fences are good and strong, okay? No more of this rag-tag farm for you.”

Louis was three feet away, arms lifted carefully above his head to sling the harness over Fernando’s head; when Niall's shrill voice screamed his name.

In the seconds it took to check the field and look back at Fernando, the bull had dipped his head, charging forward the few feet between them, horns filed but sharp all the same.

Louis didn’t feel the impact. His vision went blurry and the sky turned upside down but there was a sharp pain in his side, that he knew. And as he landed with a sickening thud on the ground; he knew that whatever had happened, it wasn’t good. His vision faded out as the pain increased. Everything went black.

//

“What do you mean Fernando flipped him?” Harry followed Liam out onto the drive where two ambulances were parked with flashing lights. “Liam?”

“Your Dad called them from the field,” Liam explained as Des strode into view, pulling Harry into a tight hug.

“He’s alright,” he promised quickly, Harry numbly staring at him. “But the bull's horns impacted his abdomen so they’re taking him in to check for internal bleeding.”

“Internal bleeding?” Harry echoed, face ashen.

“Just a precaution,” Des soothed. “It’s likely he’ll have a couple of monster bruises and nothing else.”

“Fernando flipped him?” He repeated, confused.

Des swallowed with a nod.

“C-Can I go with him?” He beseeched, starting towards the two medical vehicles parked in the drive.

“There’s a bit of blood,” Des warned as he guided Harry to the back of the ambulance where Louis was being treated. “Seems a hoof may have cut his thigh when he landed on the ground and the bull was still charging...”

Harry felt a dizzying sickness wash over him.

“I think it’s best I drive you in,” Des ventured.

“No,” Harry grasped the side of the vehicle. “I’m going with Louis.”

“Alright, we'll follow behind,” his Dad assured.

Harry braced himself for the sight of Louis, injured, and was grateful his Dad was there to hold him up.

“Lou?” He whispered, eyes beseeching the unconscious form laid on the trolley bed, a drip line in his arm and a pulse monitor attached to his finger.

“Are you Mr. Tomlinson’s husband?” the medic asked and Harry nodded stupidly along. “We’re leaving in just a minute,” he confirmed. “We’re just getting him stable.”

Harry didn’t ask if he’d be okay. His Dad had said he would be, right? He climbed up into the back of the ambulance and settled beside Louis, a blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his thigh and his skin a strange pale shade.

Harry let the blip of Louis' heart monitor sync with his own heartbeat, his breathing calming to the reassuring sound. Louis was alive and he was going to be okay.

//

It was so quiet in the hospital.

Harry found the regular shuffle of activity outside Louis’ room comforting but inside his room, his thoughts crowded his mind.

On arrival he had insisted on paying for private care for Louis and he was assigned his own room to recover in; his injuries assessed and bandaged while he recuperated in a hospital bed; sedated to ease the pain.

And Harry had so much he wanted to tell him. He had so much to say with the anonymity of Louis’ unconsciousness. He wished he could speak those words aloud when he was awake but he hadn’t found the courage, yet.

Louis had been wrong when he had said that it had taken courage for Harry to leave his home. It had been easy for him to pretend he wasn’t a Styles anymore; that he wasn’t a Super Vet with extraordinary skill that had been stolen in the impact of a crash he couldn’t fathom. It had been seamless; filtering into life in Thorne; playing guitar in Niall’s band and taking photographs for Janet’s newspaper.

It wasn’t easy sat there; watching Louis hurting. It wasn’t easy knowing that Louis didn’t know how he felt because he hadn’t had the courage to _tell_ him. The same cowardice that caused him to flee the media accusations was strangling the words in his throat that would explain exactly how he felt.

Not that he wanted to leave; not that he _had_ to leave, even. But that he wanted to _stay_. And somehow that confession felt harder.

“See, the thing is,” Harry fidgeted, breath leaving his lips in a helpless sigh as he finally found his voice. “You can’t be hurt, okay? You can’t be hurt because I love you. I know I said I was falling,” he grimaced. “But I lied. I—I fell for you the second you lit my cigarette. And that’s not some weird innuendo for turning me on,” he mumbled. “Although you do that, too,” he smirked. “But back to the point,” he mused. “I love you but I can’t ask you to love _me_. Because I’m ill, Louis. I’m ill and I don’t know what’s wrong but I’ve brought enough trouble along, already. You don’t need any more.”

Harry looked up, eyes fastening on the sedated body tucked carefully under the covers in the hospital bed.

“I’m not leaving,” he swallowed, huffing defensively. “I’m just admitting that I’m scared. And I’m giving you an out. Because you might need it if—if it’s bad,” Harry stuttered. “I’m not going to make you watch me get ill,” he added. “You’re too young and pretty to be tied down. You shine too brightly to be dimmed like that.”

The resounding pulse of the heart monitor steadied Harry’s shaky hands.

“They said you’re going to be okay. At least one of us is,” he mused. “You broke your rib and bruised your abdomen pretty bad. Your elbow got knocked when you fell. They said your knee got twisted too. But I’ll take care of you,” he promised. “You said you’d take care of me, too.”

Harry looked again at the bed.

“Lou?”

“Harry?” A male voice jolted him from his narrative thoughts, his gaze brought to the doorway.

“Doctor Jones,” he forced a smile and bit his wobbly lip.

“Is he showing signs of waking up yet?”

Harry shook his head.

“Still sedated,” he reminded gently.

The Doctor moved into the room with a frown, checking the file in his arms.

“No, he should be coming off those by now. They reduced the dosage overnight to see if he’d wake naturally this morning “ he checked the notes. “It’s not unusual for trauma victims to take their time to come around, though. Don’t worry just yet,” he smiled.

_They stopped the sedatives last night?_

“Er, Doc?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Do you think he can hear me?”

Dr. Jones took a thoughtful breath.

“Technically it’s possible,” he supposed. “Don’t go confessing to any murders,” he joked.

Harry turned back to the bed and stared.

_Shit._

_//_

Louis had been home for nine days. The first six days had been largely spent sleeping while their friends turned up in shifts to help out, Des offering to stay for longer if required. Harry had asked him to look into the charity finance issues while he focused on the day-to-day running of the shelter with Liam taking on the bulk of the planning.

For the last three days, Louis had been venturing out of bed and around the house using his crutches while his thigh and knee healed.

Harry followed him everywhere with his gaze, if not his body, only truly relaxing once Louis made it to his intended destination.

It was one rainy afternoon that Louis joined him on the sofa, Harry’s arms wrapped around his folded legs as he watched an old film on the big TV, Evie napping on the rug by the fire.

“Hey, you’re up,” Harry slid his feet to the floor, readying to fetch them some drinks. “You want some tea?”

“No, I’m okay,” Louis smiled.

Harry watched him for a moment.

“Everything okay?”

Louis frowned, eyes focusing on objects on the coffee table before they settled on Harry.

“I think...I think you should make a Doctor’s appointment,” he murmured.

“What?” Harry sat up a bit, twiddling the stud in his nose.

“I think you should make a Doctor’s appointment and I’ll come with you.” Louis repeated.

Harry swallowed, a prickling sensation running up his body.

“Why?”

Louis twisted to look at him, reaching for his hand to link their fingers.

“Because I heard you,” he breathed.

“You heard me,” Harry frowned, his worst fear coming true.

“At the hospital,” Louis confirmed. “When you said you were sick and you were giving me an out. I’m not taking it by the way,” he smirked. “Nice try, love.”

“Y-you don’t even know-"

“I’m here,” Louis told him firmly. “No matter what.”

Harry looked at him; his initial instinct to argue with his easy promise. The words mirrored his own that he had spoken to Louis during their first official date. He found Louis’ steady gaze supporting him as he stared back; fear niggling in the back of his mind and Louis’ reassurance a welcome comfort. He let out a breath of acceptance.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he reached for the house phone. “Now let’s make an appointment,” he instructed.

Harry called the Doctor with a shy smile.

//

The waiting room was quiet when Louis limped in with the aid of his crutches. Harry followed him quietly, his tweed cap covering his hair and his sunglasses shading his eyes. Louis realised then that he used them as part of his disguise.

As well as cutting his long hair off and adding piercings, he had shut himself off from the world in tiny ways that Louis was only just appreciating.

Harry sat beside him and leaned his forearms on his thighs, sunglasses folded up and hung on the neck of his black jumper; his olive eyes carefully flitting around the room. He fidgeted uncomfortably and sighed when a few patients looked at him for longer than required.

Louis stared them down, hand sliding onto Harry’s thigh when he leaned back to tilt his chin up, eyes avoiding the interested glances coming his way. _Word had got around then_, Louis mused.

“It’s alright, love,” Louis murmured. “They just think you’re a vampire, that’s all...”

Harry turned his face to smile at him weakly, skin pale.

“Would you um...would you mind coming in with me?” He asked, voice a whisper. “You don’t have to,” he tacked on quickly.

Louis made sure to pick up his hand to squeeze it.

“Of course,” he assured. “Whatever you want.”

Harry let out a breath, shoulders loosening a little.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t think I’m not expecting a favour in return,” Louis murmured with a crinkle-eyed smile.

“Oh?” Harry swallowed, gently pressing his knee against Louis'.

“Yeah, you know those brownies you baked last week when you were bored? I could eat more of those.” He commented nonchalantly.

Harry huffed, arm pressing into Louis' as he reached to kiss his temple, fingers slipping out of his hand only to alternate and clutch between Louis' fingers instead, a flicker of a smile gracing his lips.

“Brownies it is,” he affirmed in a deep voice.

//

“I would ask why you’re here, but I think that’s obvious,” Dr. Rachel Fitzgerald gave Louis a once-over. “Complications?” She asked curiously.

“A-actually I made the appointment,” Harry stuck his hand up sheepishly. “It’s for me.”

“Oh,” Rachel sat back and directed her gaze to Harry. “No bandages on you,” she observed.

“No, I'm uh...I’m getting these symptoms and I’m not sure why. But Lou persuaded me to come and have a chat with you so I can put my mind at ease, maybe.”

“Well,” Rachel smiled at Louis. “Your partner is very smart,” she told Harry. “What are your symptoms?”

//

“Harry? You okay love?” Louis came into the kitchen to find Harry after dinner, having gone upstairs to hang the clean laundry.

“Yeah,” he frowned, eyes flitting around the room to place himself.

“You were away with the fairies for a bit there,” Louis ran a soothing hand across his curved shoulders. “Shall I fix you a nice bubble bath?”

“No, I can manage,” Harry scraped his chair back to get up, Louis nodding tritely and stepping away.

“Alright. I’ll uh...make a hot drink for when you’re done, then.” He turned toward the stove to pour milk into a pan for cocoa.

Harry hovered, sigh expelling from his lips.

“Lou?”

“Hm?” Louis twisted, bright smile a little forced.

Harry moved toward him and slowly tightened him into a hug.

“Sorry.” He said.

“Hey, none of that,” Louis rubbed his back.

“I’m just—you know,” he murmured.

“The Neurologist appointment is already booked for next week.” Louis soothed. “I’ve asked Liam and Niall to cover for me here.”

Harry’s face creased, guilt sickening his stomach.

“You don’t have to, Lou. I mean, this place is your baby, I’d never want you to feel like you're obligated to come with me. I can ask my Dad or--"

“But you don’t need to,” Louis spoke softly. “Because I’m going to be here for you every step of the way to your diagnosis, okay?”

Harry nodded, fingers pushing into his hair as Louis' arms secured around him.

“Did I mention that I love you?” Louis lifted his chin, Harry’s tired, stress-lined eyes darting to his.

“What?”

Louis smiled, shrugging slightly.

“Silly little fact that you might like to know. Along with; did you know that sheep can jump five feet?”

Harry’s brows furrowed, eyes flicking to the side and then back to Louis' face, his hand lifting to delicately cradle his jaw.

“Lou, what?” He asked.

“Well one of the rams made a break for it and I was chasing the little shit across the yard when he stopped dead in front of the paddock so I thought, _right I’ve got the bastard_, and then he took a standing jump at the fence! And he fucking cleared it, too! Can you believe that?!”

Harry’s lips pressed into Louis' stilling his nervous heart.

“You love me?” He whispered.

Louis nodded with a smile.

“You’re not just saying that because you heard me?” He checked.

“Nope,” Louis slid his palm under the hem of Harry’s jumper to splay it over the band of his jeans. “Again, nice try, love,” he winked.

Harry’s lips tugged a bit in one corner.

“You can call me _Styles_ now that I’m exposed.”

“You don’t like _love_?” Louis questioned.

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled, pressing another kiss to his lips. “I like _love_ a lot.”

“And I don’t see much exposure,” Louis teased, pulling at the hem of his jumper to reveal his laurel tattoos.

Harry twisted awkwardly away, fingers pulling the knitted top back down to cover his bare skin. Louis took a breath, heart racing.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Louis winced.

Harry bit his lip and shook his head, turning to stalk toward the kitchen arch.

“It's me who’s sorry,” he rasped out before he thundered up the stairs.


	8. Chapter 8

“What if it’s a tumour?”

“Don’t do this to yourself, Haz,” Louis stroked his hair, spooning Harry in bed.

“It might be,” he argued, pulling the covers closer to his chest. “The get out clause is still valid, okay?”

“No, it’s _not_ okay,” Louis sighed.

“You’re getting annoyed.”

“I’m not _annoyed_,” Louis clambered inelegantly over Harry's body to lay in front of him so he could look him in the eye. “I’m _hurt_. I’m not getting out.”

“The option is there, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, look, I'm not giving you a freedom clause,” Louis argued. “When I’m a miserable bastard, you’re stuck with me, love. I’m not letting you leave.”

“That’s called imprisonment.” Harry mumbled.

“That’s called love,” Louis replied. “Through sickness and health, right?”

“We’re not married,” Harry pointed out.

“Don’t think we need a bit of paper to prove what a stubborn ass I am.”

“Lou?”

“Yeah, love?”

“What if I'm dying?"

Louis swallowed, looking into Harry’s frightened eyes. Eyes that didn’t shine with the gentle warmth of affection that they usually held for Louis. Eyes that depicted the deep hole in Harry’s heart.

Louis kissed him, in the hope his tender love might start to fill the gap.

“Fate wouldn’t be so cruel.” He stated confidently. “Guys like me don’t usually get guys like you. The Universe wouldn’t give me that kind of kismet just to snatch it away.”

“Lou!” Harry snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Just saying,” Louis sniffed, softening as Harry pulled Louis' arm around his shoulders and snuggled under it.

“Alright, I can hear you,” Harry mumbled against Louis' chest.

“Good,” Louis dropped a kiss into his hair.

“And Lou?”

“Mmm?”

“Guys like me don’t _deserve_ guys like you.”

“Well, you got me anyway,” Louis promised.

//

“_Louis, where’s Harry? Is he Ok? What was the appointment for? Did you hurt him_?”

Louis straightened from his crouched position collecting fan art, propping a bouquet of sunflowers under his arm. Ever since that first day he'd ventured out; pictures had been printed and Harry’s fans had tripled their efforts with the shrine.

Louis left out a small plaque asking people to donate to one of Harry’s favourite charities; not expecting _his _charity to be a natural recipient of the public's generosity; especially after the accusations that he was using Harry for his money.

Still, it seemed there were a few who ignored the trash press in favour of supporting the animal-loving hero. He turned to face the growing pen of photographers, staring them all down before he stopped by the mailbox on the way back up the drive.

//

“Blimey you’re popular,” Niall observed, feet rested up on the kitchen table as he balanced on the back two legs of a chair, Louis settling the flowers in a vase while Harry arranged his mail according to size.

He let Louis open it first, now. He trusted him to remove the letters which might be emotionally taxing and share the ones which would brighten his day.

Today was the first day that Harry was passed a letter inside a sealed envelope.

He glanced at Louis as Louis scooped away the unwanted post and stood up to start work. He was still hobbling around with his crutches but Harry had given up trying to dissuade him. Instead he went out in the afternoons to play with the ponies and feed the sheep.

“What’s this?” Harry asked of the envelope.

“That’s from someone you know,” Louis told him only, kissing his temple and squeezing his hand before he left for the yard.

Harry looked at Niall.

“It’s a love poem,” Niall decided.

“Oh,” Harry blinked, swallowing.

“I mean don’t hate me if it’s not!” He stuck his hands up in surrender. “Maybe it’s a dick pic...”

Harry smiled and reached for the letter-opener Louis had been using to carefully preserve the envelopes as he opened them.

He pulled out a folded sheet and paused, looking at Niall.

“Can you make us a tea?” He asked.

“Fine, fine,” Niall sighed, getting up reluctantly. “But if he’s gone mushy on us, I need to know, okay?”

Harry smirked, unfolding the paper slowly, eyes flicking to the sunflowers that Louis had brought in. His heart clenched.

Wish that you could build a time machine

So you could see The things no one can see

Feels like you're standing on the edge

Looking at the stars

And wishing you were them

What do you do when a chapter ends?

Do you close the book and never read it again?

Where do you go when your story's done?

You can be who you were or who you'll become

If it all goes wrong

Darling just hold on

The sun goes down and it comes back up

The world it turns no matter what If it all goes wrong

Darling, just hold on

It's not over 'til it's all been said

It's not over 'til your last breath

So what do you want them to say when you're done?

That you gave up or that you kept going on?

What do you do when a chapter ends?

Do you close the book and never read it again?

Where do you go when your story's done?

You can be who you were or who you'll become

If it all goes wrong

Darling just hold on

The sun goes down and it comes back up

The world it turns no matter what

If it all goes wrong Darling, just hold on

“It’s a song,” Harry frowned.

“What?” Niall brought the tea over, hovering behind Harry to read the carefully hand-written lyrics. “Hey, that looks good, H.”

“I’ll grab my guitar,” he stood up to bound up the stairs.

//

“_Tomlinson was controlling and deviant in bed_,” Niall let himself in through the back door of the farmhouse, letting it slam open.

Harry startled at the stove where he was making porridge. He had a sneaking suspicion that Louis had hired his friends to babysit him while Louis was outside working.

“What are you reading?” He wondered.

“Daily Mail,” Niall shared. “It’s for Evie’s litter tray.” He added.

“Who gave that interview?” Harry asked.

“Eh, some guy,” Niall shrugged, folding the paper up and sitting down.

“Do you know the guy?” Harry sauntered over and twisted the paper toward him to check the picture. “That’s Nick,” he darted a shocked look at Niall. “Did he and Louis-?”

“Fuck no,” Niall assured. “Don’t even go there.”

“So, he’s lying,” Harry frowned. “I mean, how much more of this can Louis take?” He beseeched.

“He doesn’t care about any of it,” Niall promised. “Honest. Just focus on you. Why don’t you come out with me today? My boss wants me to fetch some logs from Peterborough. Be a nice drive about for ya.”

Harry dished up breakfast, placing a bowl in front of Niall automatically.

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded. “Sounds fun.”

//

“We know he hit you...the hospital staff told us everything...Harry! He’s taking your money and he’s beating you up, don’t you have anything to say?”

Harry stared at the camera lenses jostling around him as Niall burrowed him through the thrall and back to the truck; their quiet lunch suddenly torn apart.

“H, fuck, I’m sorry,” Niall hissed as he pulled away, Harry curling up in the front seat with his shades on.

“It’s not your fault, Niall,” Harry assured.

“How did they find us?”

“Followed us all the way, probably,” Harry sighed. “I thought Tom's statement about privacy might have warned them off; but no.”

“Where the fuck did they get the idea that Louis hit ya?” Niall looked over, concerned.

“No idea. It wasn’t even me who got treated at the hospital. It was Louis when he got charged by the bull.” Harry still couldn’t bring himself to refer to the animal by his given name.

“What about the doctors?” Niall suggested.

“My appointment wasn’t about bruises,” he murmured.

“Why are they so desperate to make you look bad?” Niall huffed.

“I wasn’t even drinking when I had that car accident, Ni,” Harry swallowed. “Tom’s suing them for libel. But I’ve gone from being this perfect Disney Prince in the media to being the bad boy of television. It’s like they’re determined to bring me down.”

“Look, everybody knows you’ve got a heart of gold,” Niall soothed.

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Harry admitted. “They're hunting Louis down just for being seen with me.”

“Well don’t go vanishing,” Niall warned. “We don’t take kindly to deserters. And anyway, you’ve got a huge following on Twitter.”

“Why are you on Twitter?” Harry twisted in the truck seat to ask.

“’Cos I like the pictures people make up of you and Louis together,” Niall smirked.

Harry stared at him for five seconds before pulling out his phone.

//

Louis found Harry sitting cross-legged on the lounge carpet, sheaves of paper strewn around his legs; his guitar propped on his thighs and Evie curled up behind him on the sofa, snoozing.

His hair looked slightly damp, sections of it curling in a way that had Louis wanting to sink his fingers into their intriguing depths.

He let Harry’s casual strumming soothe him for a minute; the sight of him genuinely enjoying something so simple filling him with a burst of hope that perhaps one day they could have more scenes like this.

Slowly, realisation dawned on him. Harry had _shaved. _With his head down focusing on the frets of his instrument, it hadn’t been obvious at first but whatever Louis remembered of the smooth-skinned young boy on television came nowhere near to the clean-shaved man in his living room.

“Wow,” he murmured; bringing Harry’s attention towards him.

_Just wow._

He was achingly handsome, painful to admire, practically, with his strong, sharp jaw and slanted cheekbones. No wonder he had covered it up with a beard, Louis mused.

Harry was gathering his sheets with a flustered smile.

“Hi. Sorry, I was just—I’ll make room for you to sit down,” he babbled, setting his guitar gently aside and stretching out his legs to better reach his music sheets.

Louis stared at him, heart thrashing, wanting to be closer but uncertain about Harry’s demeanour. Finally, he looked up with a hopeful smile.

“Ok, I’m good,” he said.

Louis ventured closer, pausing by his knee.

“Can I sit with you?” He asked.

“Sure,” Harry agreed in a raspy voice.

Louis shifted, standing with his feet either side of Harry’s knees.

“Like this?”

“Oh,” Harry swallowed, lashes flickering as he blinked. “Are you sure you won't hurt your knee? Careful, Lou,” he murmured as Louis lowered himself to straddle Harry’s legs, his hands cupping Harry’s smooth jaw for a closer inspection.

“I can see your dimples now,” Louis awed as Harry's lips tugged slightly at one corner, shadowing the dent in his cheek. The mention of it had him smiling helplessly, both dimples appearing as his smile grew.

“Yeah. Was trying to hide them since people who watch the show would recognise me.”

“They're beautiful,” Louis complimented breathily. “_You're_ beautiful.”

Harry met Louis' gaze before Louis leaned in to kiss him meaningfully on the mouth.

“You’re the pretty one,” Harry’s lashes flicked up as Louis pulled away.

Louis rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Styles. Keep pretending that you're not a _model _as well as an actor,” he teased.

Harry gasped, hands squeezing Louis' sides where he held him in his lap by his waist.

“How did you find out about that? Did you Google me?”

Louis snorted.

“Love, you forget that Niall's main objective in life is to sniff out the gossip. He’s given me a run through of everything you’ve done since I last watched your show.”

“When I was still a pudgy teenager,” he sulked.

“You had a cute cackling laugh that I can’t wait to hear again and you endeared everyone you met. Not much has changed, Hazza,” he pointed out.

Harry tipped his head back, hands sliding around Louis' waist and dipping lower, to nestle on his butt.

“This mutual appreciation party we're having...are there physical demonstrations?” He enquired.

Louis smirked, leaning in to place kisses along Harry’s jaw.

“The interactive games start now...”

//

“Hey, do you know what’s weird?” Louis questioned while he hobbled about the barn, Harry determinedly joining him in feeding the sheep despite Louis' efforts to insist he rested.

“What’s weird?” Harry called over from where he was tugging straw from the confines of the bale and stuffing it into the feeder on the wall.

“This place has started getting a flood of donations. The bank called me and asked me to come in so we could discuss the fund management.”

Harry smirked to himself, his back still to Louis.

“Well, this _is_ a very worthwhile cause to donate to,” Harry commented.

Louis waded through the herd to join Harry; scattering some of the straw on the ground to create a warm layer for the animals over the mud.

“I’ve got to say I’m still surprised,” Louis mused. “Considering that the press is making me out to be a gold-digger and a boyfriend-beater, you'd think your fans would hate me.”

Harry’s shoulders stiffened at the mention of the media and he straightened to dust himself off.

“Yeah, well. My fans aren’t stupid,” Harry intoned in a deep voice. “Think anyone can see that you’re not what they say."

Louis stepped closer to pluck errant straw from Harry's chest.

“I think we can stay open for a bit longer, now,” he shared, cautiously. “The money that’s coming in will help support Happy Paws for a long while yet.”

Harry smiled, slowly pulling Louis in to kiss him, feeling the smaller man acquiesce easily in his arms.

“I’m glad I could help,” Harry told him. “We should go in, now,” he added. “You're still healing and you need to rest.”

Louis pressed a kiss under Harry's chin and took his hand to lead him into the house.

//

“It’s on his Twitter!” Louis fish-mouthed at his phone, thrusting the screen towards Liam as they paused for a coffee.

Harry had taken up Niall's offer to sneak him out of the farm to play golf for the day. Louis had helped him crawl into the footwell at the back of Niall's truck and artfully covered him with a blanket to disguise him from the paparazzi camped at the main road.

Liam licked his lips and gave Louis a patient look.

“You’re surprised?” He teased.

“I thought people were just donating!” Louis argued. “He didn’t tell me he _endorsed _the sanctuary. Isn’t that—"

“Romantic?” Liam cut in.

Louis sighed.

“I was going to say, morally questionable,” he murmured. “It’s favouritism.”

“_You’re_ his favourite,” Liam shrugged, sipping his drink.

Louis smirked, reaching for a biscuit from the tin he'd brought out.

“He’s mine, too.”

“Look Louis, I’m pretty sure Harry feels guilty about the crap that's being printed about you in the papers. If this is one small thing he can do to feel better about it, then let him,” he suggested. “He’s not begging for donations or forcing people to give. It’s just a link in his bio.”

“Alright,” Louis nodded. “I’ll let it go. Now, are we ready for the trip to York tomorrow? I’ve got the animal carrier on hire from first thing.”

“We’re collecting three llamas, right?” Liam checked.

“Yep.”

“I’m ready, boss,” Liam nodded to confirm.

//

Naked apart from his boxer briefs, and a black silk gown that he’d snatched from the bathroom to belt around himself when a knock had sounded at the door, Harry found himself face to face with a grey-haired man with kind blue eyes.

“Uh, hi,” He smiled, tugging uselessly at the hem of the gown which was naturally too small for him, since it was Louis’ size. “Can I help?”

The man gave him a once-over.

“You must be Harry,” he greeted. “I’m Mark, Louis' Dad.”

Harry’s nostrils flared, lips parting in shock.

“O-oh,” he gulped. “Er, come in,” he offered with a wan smile. “I’ll put some clothes on,” he added under his breath.

//

“So, Harry,” Mark sipped his tea and leaned back in the sofa seat while Harry stood by the fireplace fidgeting, his arms wrapped around himself despite pulling on Louis' red jumper with his jeans. “How are you doing?”

He wasn’t expecting the question.

“I’m ok,” he murmured. “And you, Mr, Tomlinson? Is everything ok?” He swallowed.

“I’ve got to admit I was a bit worried when a journo knocked on my door at 6am demanding to know how I could allow my son to treat his boyfriend so badly,” Mark mused.

Harry darted him a fearful look.

“Shit. I’m so sorry,” his face creased. “Mr, Tomlinson, whatever I can do to make this okay, please just name it...”

Mark patted the sofa seat.

“Come and sit here,” he invited gently.

Harry tripped over his bare feet but sat, primly, palms pressed together between his knees.

“He’s not hurting you, is he?” Mark asked.

Harry felt tears rush to his eyes.

“No,” he managed in a thick, shaky voice.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, a relieved smile gracing his lips. “He didn’t tell me about the debt,” he added quietly. “Gets his stubborn streak from his mother, you know.”

Harry nodded mutely, sniffing and dashing away tears with his shaky fingers.

“Hey, it’s alright, lad,” Mark put his teacup on the table and stood up, gesturing Harry to rise. “Get here you great daft thing,” he murmured; bear hugging Harry in his arms.

Harry fought the urge to give in to his emotions, stiffening in the embrace until Mark soothed him with a gentle circle on his back with his rough palm.

“I’m not like the others,” he said. “I don’t think bad of you and I’m not going to give those vultures anything to feed on. You're my son’s boyfriend and that’s all I need to know.”

Harry broke down into sobs, hesitantly clutching Mark around the shoulders as the older man soothed him.

“Louis' told me all about you,” Mark narrated gently in a soothing voice. “I was waiting patiently for the formal invite to drive up and meet you but he’ll likely be tetchy that I snuck in any way...”

Harry hiccupped, pulling away to find a tissue. Mark handed him his handkerchief.

“It’s clean,” Mark promised.

“Not anymore,” Harry joked once he’d blown his nose.

“You’re a good sort,” Mark said.

Harry gazed at him, brows furrowing.

“How do you know?” He wondered, voice soft.

Mark smiled.

“Well, I hear that Tiny Tim's taken a shine to you and let me tell you that there horse, I don’t care how small he looks, that mischief chases me round the yard and hoofs me every chance he gets so if he’s fond of you then there can’t be much wrong with you.”

Harry hitched out a half-laugh, half sob, nodding along.

“He’s really sweet, do you want to go and see him?” He invited.

“Aye, lad, let’s go see the demon pony,” Mark winked, patting him on the shoulder encouragingly.

//

Louis came home to find his father at the kitchen table peeling potatoes and Harry sat opposite him shelling broad beans.

He paused in the doorway, waiting for his brain to catch up.

“Dad,” he moved into the room with the instant flush of comfort he got from seeing his father. “Hey.”

Mark stood up and moved to hug him, the same way he’d hugged Harry.

“There he is. My little gold-digger,” Mark joked.

Harry watched them quietly with intense eyes.

“Alright, love?” Louis walked around the table to drop a kiss onto the top of his head and give him a quick squeeze around the shoulders.

“Yeah, how are you?” Harry asked.

Louis limped slightly to hang up his coat, unlacing his boots to stack them beside Harry’s by the door.

“Bit knackered, but good,” he assured. “The llamas are just settling in the truck for half an hour before I let them out into the paddock.”

“Oh, they’re here!” Harry’s eyes lit up, body straightening from its previous slump.

“Yeah, bit of a stressful drive for Liam but I’ve sent him home for the night.”

“We can take the truck back tomorrow,” Harry offered.

“Have you named them yet?” Mark asked.

Louis smiled.

“Not yet.”

“That’s not like you, son, you usually name them on the way home.”

“Thought Harry might like to think of some names this time,” Louis ran a hand between Harry’s shoulders.

Harry twisted to look up at him with a gentle smile.

“Thank you. I’d love to.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Louis asked his Dad.

“Yep. I’m in charge of mash,” he arched a brow and winked.

Louis chuckled, eyeing the mess of vegetables strewn over the table.

“I’ll have a quick shower and come down to help,” he promised.

//

Harry was curled up under his arm snoozing while Louis watched the late news with his Dad.

“I was going to introduce you,” Louis blurted, guilt twisting in his chest.

“I know,” Mark smiled. “I just wanted to check in with you after I heard about the newspapers. It’s not easy to face that kind of accusation.”

“The press team from Harry’s show have a lawyer instructed to pursue libel,” Louis shared. “We know the truth,” he added with a shrug.

“Couldn’t he tell them?” Mark hedged, eyes flitting to Harry to ensure he was asleep.

“They already released a statement,” Louis explained. “They try not to comment on personal circumstances because it feeds the flame.”

“Well I’m not keen on my beautiful boy being called a man-beater,” Mark sighed. “That was a tough one to see.”

“Yeah,” Louis whispered, swallowing, glancing down. “Sometimes it’s just best to quiet the rumours by proving them wrong.”

“As long as you’re coping with it alright,” Mark commented. “I can pop in a bit more if you like,” he added. “I was working on those accounts for that company in town but I’ve not taken any new work on yet.”

Louis nodded, biting his lip.

“We can use the help,” he admitted. “Still a bit sore after Fernando tossed me.”

“Aye, you told me it was just a scratch,” Mark complained. “It was your Auntie Geraldine that rang me to say you’d been in hospital.”

“Only for a day,” Louis rolled his eyes. “Really, I’m fine.”

Harry stirred on the sofa beside Louis, blinking sleepily at Mark before he sat up a bit with a yawn and a stretch.

“I guess I should hit the hay,” he offered; struggling to get up.

Louis watched him with a gentle smile until he made it to his feet.

“Um. Goodnight, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry lifted his hand to wave goodbye. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“You can call me Mark you know,” he teased. “Goodnight Harry. Sleep well.”

“I’ll be up in a bit,” Louis added, earning a brow-waggle from his father. “Shush!” Louis giggled, swiping his Dad’s knee gently.

“Handsome fella,” Mark observed.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded. “Handsome heart, too.”

“Even that evil animal likes him!” Mark huffed of Tiny Tim.

“Tim’s just scared, Dad,” Louis defended. “He’s not evil.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two youngsters alone for the evening,” Mark stood up. “I’ll be back tomorrow with a crate of carrots for your harem,” he promised.

Louis hugged his Dad at the back door.

“Thanks Dad,” he murmured. “For being so understanding and making him feel welcome.”

Mark nodded as he pulled away.

“Meets my approval, not that it matters to you,” he smiled.

Louis saw him off with a wave and locked the door.

//

“Oh, hello, gorgeous...look at you, aren’t you just stunning?”

Harry’s fingers dug into thick, wiry hair and petted at the animal crowding for his attention.

“I’m being cheated on for a llama,” Louis accused, unfolding the blueprint for the field they would be excavating to suit the llamas needs.

“Hey, you’re pretty,” Harry told him. “I don’t call anyone else that, alright?”

Louis felt a warm flush go over his whole body, tingling the roots of his hair and curling his toes.

“Okay,” he agreed vaguely, watching Harry's long legs stride about in his tight jeans; his hooped nose stud and matching earring in today.

“Someone’s getting horny,” Harry accused, Louis snapping his gaze down to his crotch to check he hadn’t _really _sprung a boner like a teenager. He _hadn't _but he couldn’t deny the evident swell of interest from his dick at watching Harry.

Still, Harry was insistently controlling one of the llamas with a flustered giggle.

“I know I’ve got long legs but I’m not one of your kind!” He was telling the boisterous male. “Calm yourself, Mozart!”

Louis snorted.

“You’re naming them after composers?”

Harry nodded.

“This is Mozart,” he said of the cream animal. “That’s Beethoven,” be pointed to the chocolate brown, “And he’s Haydn,” he added of the third male with mixed cream and brown markings.

Harry tufted Mozart’s hair when he stopped clamouring for attention.

“Well they certainly seem fond of you,” Louis observed. “Right, Liam’s bringing the mini-digger up the back way so I’m letting him up on the hill,” Louis said. “You get in the warmth, love. See you later.”

Louis started off for the hill, tugged back by Harry’s fingers grasping his wrist. Louis tiptoed to kiss him with a smile, Harry’s warm body a welcome distraction from the frosty morning.

The way Harry hummed when Louis tightened his arms around his shoulders stirred something that had woken while watching Harry earlier and Louis felt himself harden as Harry flicked his tongue into his mouth and palmed his ass-cheek to haul him closer.

They hadn’t fucked in a while, Louis' injuries and Harry’s health buffering their passion but it surged back thick and hot at exactly that moment when it wasn’t convenient to give into the tempting pleasure. Louis wished for the first time in a long time that he didn’t have obligations. He wished that he could bundle Harry up and fuck him in the barn among the straw bales; or in bed where it was warm and they could sleep after.

He wished that his hand on Harry’s thick ridge, pulsing keenly in his palm was foreplay for more, a more that could unfold however they wanted with nothing else besides _them _to worry about. A more that involved watching Harry orgasm while Louis was deep inside him; releasing his own pleasure right into Harry’s body.

Harry was breathing harshly as Louis sucked a bruising kiss into his bare throat, body taut and skin burning with the heat of _want_.

Louis swallowed, tugging his phone out of his pocket.

_Liam, start digging a hole for the llama dip. 12 long, 8 wide, 5 deep. _

He looked at Harry.

“Can we finish this indoors ?” He asked.

Harry’s nod sent another surge of desire through him.

//

Harry was gently quivering, Louis easing out of him carefully, Harry wincing slightly as the flush of Louis' release stickied the sheets.

“You good, love?” Louis lifted his hand to kiss his palm, clambering off the bed to fetch towels and a sponge.

Harry’s eyes followed him, throat bobbing.

Louis delicately wiped up the mess, tucking a dry towel underneath Harry’s hips.

“Did I hurt you?” Louis worried, tucking beside him to stroke his hair.

Harry shook his head.

He’d lost his erection half-way through Louis fucking him, unable to realise his orgasm and release the way he usually did, alongside Louis' peak. It was a disorientating feeling. Louis had asked if Harry wanted him to stop but it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it. He just…couldn’t get hard again.

They’d giggled into longing, sucky kisses when Harry's leg had quivered excitedly when Louis sank into him but something had changed mid-stride and Harry couldn’t help but worry that things would only get worse, now.

“Love, please,” Louis begged, kissing his cheek. “Talk to me.”

Harry looked at him, wishing he had the words. He curled himself over onto his side, burrowing himself against Louis' nakedness, hiding away in his embrace.

“Darling, just hold on,” Louis whispered, drawing a quiet breath from Harry. _The song. _

_It was about **him**. About staying strong and making it through no matter what._

“I love you,” Harry told him, in case he ever lost the chance to.

“Love you too,” Louis sighed, cuddling him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you reading as I post I am really sorry but I missed this chapter out.  
I had accidentally numbered two chapters the same. It really upsets me when I get things wrong because I hate spoiling the flow but I had to insert it as the later chapters then make more sense.  
Sorry :(  
Ang

Louis slipped out of the truck, the front passenger door shutting heavily and the back-passenger door popping open thereafter.

Harry trudged toward the paddock with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, stubble re-growing and his hair the gently, wavy mess Louis was coming to know well.

Des got out of the car, eyes following Harry’s trajectory.

“Do you mind if I follow him?” Des asked.

Louis looked at him, startled. He didn’t need to ask; he was Harry’s _father. _

The fact he held Louis in high enough regard to assume him as Harry’s priority was humbling.

“Of course,” he nodded, hesitating a moment before moving inside.

The Neurologist had done a series of tests, had asked a great many questions which had tired Harry out and at the end of it all, he’d mentioned a word that none of them had expected.

_Parkinson’s._

Harry wasn’t in the usual age-range for the condition but his head injury was reason to believe an early onset could be developing. The symptoms were certainly indicative of Parkinson’s over other conditions that were more easily dismissed.

There were no tests to confirm it. The only certainty was time. Harry would get worse. How worse, how quickly; they didn’t know. There were medications that could support symptoms like the tremors but it was a case of _wait and see._

Louis hadn’t been shocked as much as relieved. It wasn’t _cancer_. Harry wasn’t _dying_. Whatever else he had to battle to cope with the onset of the condition, Louis would be by his side willingly holding his shaky hand.

But for Harry; he understood that it was a huge blow. He was a young man used to taking his physical fitness for granted and that would likely be compromised in some way. It must be frightening to know that his future held uncertainty as well as the weighted knowledge that he would get worse and the most common symptoms were practically guaranteed.

Harry’s hands were already slightly shaky and it wasn’t going to improve.

Louis watched as Harry let himself into Tim's pen, kneeling down and waiting for the tiny, scared pony to come to him. It struck him in that moment that they both felt small and frightened. Both overwhelmed by a world that preyed upon them. Tim came willingly to Harry’s arms, hauled up and pressed against Harry’s chest as Harry turned his cheek into his fur.

Louis watched as Des hovered by the gate, just watching the scene. It took all of Louis' strength to take a breath and force himself to head indoors. When Harry needed him, he would be right there, waiting.

//

“It’s okay to be upset,” Des knelt beside Harry to pet the miniature pony.

“I’m not upset,” Harry told him, and it was true, he wasn’t crying.

Des sighed.

“It’ll take time to sink in. I don’t think you can just come to terms with something like this and spring out of bed tomorrow and expect to be okay with it.”

Harry huffed into Tim's fur.

“What kind of life will it be?” He asked. “Tremors, memory loss, mood swings?”

Des slipped an arm around his waist.

“We’ll be here to support you.”

“I meant _Louis_, Dad what kind of life will it be for _him_?”

“One with the man he loves,” Des posed.

Harry made a scoffing noise and rolled his eyes.

“One with an invalid.”

“Is that how you’d feel, if he was ill?” Des challenged. “Did you decide that just because he was injured by Fernando that he was dismissed?”

“_He’s_ going to get better, Dad. _I’m_ not. I could end up a vegetable and what then? Is that fair?”

“None of this is fair," Des argued. “Least of all you making decisions for someone else. Someone who thinks very dearly of you, indeed.”

Harry sighed, letting Tim down to the ground. He watched as the pony circled to stand in front of Des, waiting for a stroke. Des reached out to indulge him.

“I just want to get on with my life. I wanted to open a practice here and start a philanthropy scheme and stay out of the limelight and now--"

“Now, _what_?” Des asked. “You can still do all of those things.”

“I can’t _operate_,” Harry argued. “It's likely I can’t manage full time hours considering my fatigue, already. I mean, what’s the point?”

“The point is that you’re alive,” Des cupped the back of his head. “You’re alive and that’s your calling in life. To treat animals. So that’s what you'll do.”

Harry blinked, watching Tim lick Des' hand.

“Let’s get inside before that boyfriend of yours sends out a search party,” Des mused. “Let’s sleep on it and talk again tomorrow.”

Harry nodded and slowly got up.

//

Louis was in the middle of orchestrating a hearty slow roast when Des brought Harry inside.

He smiled brightly, wiping his hands on his apron, waiting to see if Harry wanted more time to himself.

“You’ll make the others jealous you know,” he teased, Evie winding around his ankle with a well-timed meow.

Harry avoided looking him in the eye, offering a weak smile.

“I’ve- um. I’ve got a headache,” he murmured. “I’m going to lay down for a bit.”

“Okay, love,” Louis replied. “I’ll keep your dinner on a separate plate and you can heat it up when you feel better, how’s that?”

Harry nodded and headed through the house to his room.

“Everything ok?” Louis asked Des carefully as he went back to his stove-heated gravy.

“As well as you'd expect,” Des sighed.

“I’m sure you staying here will help,” Louis assured.

Des pulled put a chair and sat heavily in it at the table. Louis flicked the kettle on to make tea.

“Do you know what you’re getting into?” Des asked him honestly.

Louis paused, swallowing hard.

“I’m not going to pretend I’m an expert,” he hedged. “But I love Harry and I'm going to support him. There's really no alternative.”

Louis turned to look at Des to emphasise his statement.

“And what if Harry doesn’t want that?” Des posed. “What then?”

The alarming possibility that Harry might _not _want Louis there, sent his stomach into freefall. His heart stopped and then beat sickeningly hard to catch up, his throat tightening with fear. The fear of _losing Harry._ It had taken a matter of weeks for Harry to become embedded in Louis' life; threaded in the fabric of his being. _What if Harry didn't want to be with him anymore?_

“H-has he said something?” Louis gave up focusing on dinner, turning to lean back against the counter to support the weakness in his knees.

“No,” Des assured. “I’m just posing a question here, Louis. It’s up to Harry how he deals with this and we both need to consider the possibility that his coping mechanism doesn’t include _you_. I want to know how you’d deal with it. Because if we’re going to have more problems with the press then you might as well tell me now so we can come to an agreement.”

Louis felt a rush of nausea overwhelm him, his head spinning and body prickling uncomfortably at the accusation. Anger surged in him; the suggestion of him even _wanting_ to sell a story so abhorrent that it hurt him to know that Des could think he was capable of doing it.

He looked at the man sat at the table and saw his fear, too, just like he saw Harry’s. Des was afraid of how his son would suffer in the years to come. He was reeling from the news just as hard, if not harder, probably blaming himself for Harry’s diagnosis.

It wasn't an excuse but Louis clutched at the idea. Still, he couldn’t deny that Harry might want to leave. And that was a thought that couldn’t be easily swayed.

“I’m sorry that you’ve had so much to deal with, Mr. Styles. I promise you that no matter what Harry decides to do, I’ll only ever support him. Your dinner is in the oven, I need to head out for a while,” he whispered, grabbing his coat and jamming on his boots, opening the door to leave without lacing them.

//

“Where’s Lou?” Harry came down around nine o’clock, frowning at his father sat at the kitchen table and glancing confusedly at the cooker. “Were you waiting for me to come down before you ate?”

Des sat back in the chair with a swallow.

“I may have said something that upset Louis,” he admitted.

“What?” Harry spun to stare at him, having dipped his fingertip in the gravy to taste it.

“I should probably go and find him,” Des added regretfully.

“He’s gone?” Harry gaped. “Where? What did you say?”

“I’m not sure where he went,” Des winced.

“Dad, he’s still injured!” Harry exasperated. “He shouldn't be out in the dark and cold. _Fuck_, what happened?” He demanded as he shoved on his wellies.

“I should go,” Des said again. “It’s my fault. I wasn't thinking right and-"

“And?” Harry prompted, throwing on his wool jacket over his pyjamas.

“I may have made him think you were thinking of breaking up with him,” he muttered under his breath, ashamed.

Harry glared, hands fisting by his sides.

“Why would you do that?” He asked in a measured tone that Des knew only too well. It often came before an explosion.

“I just—you were talking about it and then I didn’t want any headaches with Louis selling a story if there was a bad break up! I’m not even thinking straight right now, Harry, give me a break!”

“You’re supposed to be _helping _me!” Harry yelled. “This isn't exactly helping, Dad!”

“Today’s been hard on us all!” Des shouted back.

“It’s not about _you_,” Harry accused. “Just because I confided in you doesn’t mean you can break my confidence and ruin my life!”

“I’ll talk to him,” Des promised. “Nothing is ruined.”

Harry shook his head, lips pressing bitterly together.

“Do you know what _his _Dad did the day I met him? He _hugged_ me. I was upset because of the papers and _he _hugged _me. I’m _the guy that’s bringing trouble to _his_ door. They were asking him why Louis was a beater, Dad. Sweet, gentle _Louis!” _He beseeched, tears gathering. “And you just...y-you just tell him I don’t love him and accuse him of selling me out! Please explain that to me because I really don’t get it!” He argued.

Des closed his eyes and stood up.

“I made a mistake,” he admitted. “I’ll help you look for him.”

“He’s out there thinking he’s not loved and it’s _your_ fault,” Harry grimaced. “I don’t need any more of your help, thanks.”

He slammed the back door on the way out.

//

“Louis?” Harry trudged across the yard toward the barn. “Lou?”

He let himself into the bleating mass of sheep, eyes searching the area for a small farm-hand.

Harry saw him, tucked away in the corner, crouched down to pet Mary. He let out a breath of relief and carefully made his way across the room.

“Lou,” he breathed, coming closer.

Louis looked up, straightening with a forced smile.

“Just checking on this little heart breaker,” he said.

Harry nodded.

“I’d really like to hug you if that’s okay,” He said, in a voice that rasped with emotion.

Louis looked mildly surprised, shifting to slide his arms around Harry as Harry hesitantly moved to engulf him, uncertain of Louis' innermost thoughts.

“You okay, Hazza?” Louis asked, rubbing his back and Harry immediately missed the soft endearment he usually used. _Love._

“I heard that my Dad said something really hurtful to you and I wanted to come and tell you that I love you.”

“Oh,” Louis nodded. “Okay.”

Harry looked him in the eye.

“I wanted to tell you that I love you and as much as my instinct tells me to get out to protect you from the mess I’m going to become, I’m fighting hard not to listen, okay? I can’t pretend I didn’t think about it,” he swallowed. “But I wouldn't ever leave you, Lou. I _couldn't_. But my offer of a get out clause is always going to stand. The day it gets too much, I want you to use it.”

Louis sighed, tidying Harry's floppy hair back from his face. Harry took a breath to speak again.

“That includes my Dad,” he added. “If you ever want to get away because he’s – well, he’s _challenging_,” Harry selected the word drily.

Louis huffed, taking Harry’s hands in his.

“Did somebody leave you?” He asked, the question catching Harry off guard.

Harry’s lashes flickered, lowering to cover his eyes.

“Sort of. A long time ago. It doesn’t really matter,” he frowned, eyes veering to focus into the barn.

“Who was it?” Louis queried anyway, despite Harry’s reluctance.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth.

“It was me,” He whispered.

Louis darted his chin up.

“What?”

Harry sighed and pulled Louis over toward a stack of straw bales to sit down.

“All I remember of my childhood was that my Mum was very ill. In bed most of the time, sometimes the hospital. I was eight when they told me what was wrong. Primary Progressive Multiple sclerosis. She wasn't going to get better. When I reached secondary school age, she needed constant care. She gave me a get-out clause. Told me I could remember her how she was when she was at her best rather than struggle through school, watching her deteriorate. I was twelve,” Harry’s voice was barely discernible above the playful animals but Louis shifted closer to hear. “I chose to go to boarding school. It was easier to pretend it wasn’t happening If I wasn’t _there. _I took the escape because I didn’t understand, not really, what I was missing out on. I know now that I’d do _anything_ to spend time with her no matter how sick she was.”

Louis gathered Harry into his arms and pressed loving kisses against his hair.

“It’s okay, love.”

Harry sobbed at the endearment he’d been aching to hear. _Love. _Louis had brought _love_ back into his life unconditionally. No terms, no expectations. Just giving himself selflessly to Harry to heal him and Harry didn’t know how to give himself back in return.

“I’m the one that left,” he sniffed. “So, I get it. I get it if you want to leave too. Anywhere down the line. I know how hard it is to see the person you love the most disappear but they don’t actually die. I know the regret that comes with walking away; and the guilt from being relieved that you didn’t have to watch them suffer. I know the frustration of staying and forcing yourself to go through something because you think someone else needs you.”

Louis soothed Harry with a gentle hand rubbing over his back. Harry took a breath before he spoke again.

“I know what it feels like to hide yourself in plain sight, pretending everything's okay when deep down you know that you’re not a good person. You’re not the martyr everyone thinks you are, you’re not the perfect Prince that people presume just because that’s _all_ they _see_. I know all of that...because that’s _me_,” Harry emphasised. “I’m the fraud. I’m the fickle deserter, the boy who turned his back on his mother j-just to—" Harry stuttered, breaking into wet sobs. “G-go to school!” He forced out. “As if that fucking matters! As if _knowing_ things can possibly replace those lost years,” he gasped.

“Darling,” Louis murmured. “You’re being too hard on yourself. You don’t know that what you missed was worth it,” he swallowed, squeezing Harry tight. “What if you failed school and put yourself in a bad place watching your Mum get worse? Then you wouldn't regret it...the choice you made .”

Harry tucked his tear-strewn face against Louis' neck.

“It wouldn’t have brought me to you,” he mumbled.

“I believe in my pal, fate,” Louis mused. “I’d have found my way to you somehow.”

Harry sniffed, cuddling closer.

“I think my Dad is scared he has to go through it all again,” Harry offered.

“What’s done is done,” Louis sighed. “Let’s just take each day at a time.”

Harry nodded, pulling away slightly.

“Lou?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m not giving you a get-out. We’re in this together, okay? Locked in.”

Louis took a deep breath and beamed, kissing Harry firmly on the mouth.

“Try getting rid of me,” he murmured before he kissed him lovingly, hand cupping his face.

//

Tiny Tim had taken to following Harry around the paddock as he worked with Jennifer on her physical therapy to ease her joint paint.

It filled Louis with an indescribable feeling watching the progress of his rescued animals under Harry's expert attention, his heart overflowing at the prospects that the farm now had.

Des had apologised to him when they got back to the house, offering to leave only for Louis to insist he stay as long as Harry wanted him to; tasking him with mucking out the sheep barn in punishment.

Des took on the task gladly, lightening the load for Louis while he recovered.

A few days later Des had left and Mark was dropping in with food parcels while Niall was racking up regular visits. Louis didn’t go down to the gates anymore for the fan-mail so Niall brought it up, fixing a proper mailbox at the entrance of the drive for people to use.

It was a couple of days after that, that Louis first noticed Harry carrying Tim around the yard.

“Hey, who let the demon out?” Mark teased as he got out of his truck to find Harry strolling about with the pony while he swept up with one hand.

Harry grinned.

“He’s getting brave, now. He even plays nicely with the ladies.”

“Him?” Mark pointed at the pony before approaching to pet him. “Wow, you really do work miracles.”

Harry ducked his head.

“Not anymore,” he mumbled.

Mark looked at him vacantly.

“Louis didn’t tell you?” Harry frowned.

“Tell me what?” Mark lifted Tim from under his arm once Tim had familiarised himself.

“Oh,” Harry swallowed. “I’m not sure I should just—blurt it out...”

“You’re gay,” Mark guessed with a wink.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“That’s obvious.”

“Engaged?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Not quite,” Harry blushed.

“Pregnant?!” Mark gasped.

Harry chuckled, laugh drying up. Oh god. _Children. _His diagnosis would mean that he couldn’t possibly bring up a child knowing he would give them the same life _he _had. Full of loss and pain and guilt.

“Not medically possible but nice try,” he commended, clearing his throat. “Actually I—"

“Dad!” Louis cut over Harry unknowingly, striding over to be pulled into Mark’s waiting arms.

“What haven’t you told me about Harry?” Mark accused gently. “My favourite non-biological son.” He added.

Louis glanced at Harry as he pulled out of the hug.

“I figured it was your decision,” he swallowed.

Harry swallowed before his emotions got the better of him again.

“I may have early onset Parkinson’s,” he explained in a soft voice. “There’s no conclusive test but my symptoms are indicative and we just need to see how it goes over the next few months to really confirm it.”

“Parkinson’s?” Mark questioned. “How does that come about?”

“I was in a bad car accident last year,” Harry shared. “I hit my head, it was a bad injury. They think it could be connected. There’s still a lot that’s not known about the condition so at the moment it’s a case of managing the symptoms and--"

Mark gathered Harry into a hug.

“We’re here for you, lad. Whatever you need. Any hour of the day or night, you understand?” Mark pulled away to look him in the eye.

Harry nodded.

“Good,” Mark pulled him back in. “Sorry to hear you've had that news.”

Harry managed a shaky smile.

“Does that mean you’ll stop putting holes in your face?” Mark wondered.

Harry laughed breathily as Louis smacked him playfully.

“He’s a vampire, he’s supposed to look edgy.”

“I see three of the major news outlets have run a retraction with apologies,” Mark commented as the three of them walked towards the house, the tiny clatter of hooves following them.

Louis glanced down behind them to find Tim staring up at him.

“Is he coming inside?” Louis asked.

“I’ll carry him?” Harry appealed.

“From the guy who was _adamant _that no field-dwelling animal was coming inside,” Louis accused.

“I said in _bed_,” Harry argued as he picked up the miniature pony.

“Aaaanyway,” Louis smiled at his Dad. “I saw a segment on the BBC News about the libel case the Studio are still pursuing. Not sure it’ll change people’s perceptions of me but,” he shrugged.

“Which reminds me,” Harry put Tim down to meet Evie, keeping a hold of him so he didn’t get overwhelmed while the feline sniffed him curiously.

“Tea?” Louis checked, setting up mugs.

Harry and Mark confirmed in favour of tea, Harry releasing Tim when it was apparent Evie was behaving. He kept a close eye on them as they ventured into the archway leading to the lounge.

“I’ve been invited to the National Television Awards in London,” Harry shared. “Apparently the show is up for Best Animal Series and now that I’ve been cleared of the drink-driving accusations they'd like me to attend.”

“That’s great news!” Mark enthused.

“Well done, love,” Louis praised.

“I’d quite like to go,” he added, nervously fiddling with his nose piercing.

“I’m sure we can arrange that,” Louis assured, coming over to squeeze his shoulder.

“With you,” Harry blurted right as Louis went to step away. Louis froze.

“Pardon?”

“I’d like to go with you,” he repeated with a swallow. “Our first official appearance together. A statement, if you like.”

Louis blinked.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to, “ Harry quickly tacked on, breathless. “It’s pretty overwhelming and not exactly what you feel comfortable doing so I would _completely _understand if you say no, I promise you that you wouldn’t upset me by turning it down because--"

“I’d love to,” Louis’ quiet, raspy voice cut off Harry’s babble, Louis picking up his hand to kiss his palm. “I’d be honoured.”

“Can’t wait to see this one in a suit,” Mark tilted his head toward Louis who brought the last mug over and sat beside his Dad.

“Me either,” Harry smirked into the rim of his mug.

//

“I’m not sure if I should mention my illness or not.”

They were sat together on the sofa, Harry’s legs in Louis' lap, bare apart from yellow shorts and Louis' red jumper that Harry had apparently adopted and stretched to fit his bigger body.

It was massively too hot for knitwear but Louis didn’t call him on it because the yellow shorts more than made up for any gratification that teasing would yield.

“I think you should wait until we know for sure,” Louis murmured. “Once the press get wind of it, they’ll be all over the farm.”

Harry fidgeted a bit.

“I was thinking we could get better security fencing installed,” he hedged.

Louis looked up from his book on llamas.

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Not just a handsome face,” Harry squeezed Louis’ thigh with his toes.

Louis wrapped his fingers around Harry’s ankle as Harry's own thigh quivered with the move.

“You gonna kick your legs out when you come again, love?” Louis wondered in a silky voice.

Harry snorted, shifting to settle across Louis' lap in a straddle, draping his arms over his shoulders lazily only to fold them when Louis cuddled him in.

“I booked us a nice hotel by the way.”

“Oh?” Louis smirked, palms finding the curve of Harry’s bum to shape around.

“Figured we could use a little luxury,” he winked. “Nothing to distract us...”

Louis smiled, squeezing his ass.

“You’re sure you want this life?” He asked. “I can come back to Holmes Chapel you know. You can go back to being posh,” he teased.

“I like it here, Lou,” Harry assured. “I want to start working with animals again,” he added. “This place is perfect for an on-site practice...”

Louis gave him a bemused smile.

“Oh? Building on my land already, Styles?”

“I mean, I could always open a place across town if that suits you better...”

Louis laughed, pecking his lips.

“Let’s not be hasty,” he smirked.

Harry tilted his hips to press himself against Louis' body, lips sucking Louis' longingly.

“There’s benefits to working close together,” Harry murmured in a deep voice.

Louis slid his hands up Harry's hips, thumbs tracing up his lithe torso and slowing at his ribs. Harry cupped his neck to kiss him deeply, Louis' thumbs lightly grazing his nipples to peak them, drawing a quiet gasp from Harry’s lips amidst the kiss.

Louis applied more pressure, circling and flicking the nubs sweetly, Harry moaning in response. Harry went about tugging Louis' jumper off, rolling it up to tuck it in the corner of the couch.

“Another one to commandeer,” he licked his swollen lips, dark eyes shifting to Louis as his dimple popped into his cheek.

Louis smiled, fingers trailing down his belly to grasp lightly over his semi-interested dick through his shorts, head dipping to kiss his chest, tongue swirling over his hardened nipple. Harry shifted to lay himself back on the sofa, shorts delicately shimmied down his thighs and flung away before Louis shuffled about to lean between his thighs, hand cupping his fuzzy jaw as they kissed again, bodies naturally fitting together.

“Make love to me, Lou,” Harry begged hoarsely, vulnerable eyes wide.

Louis took in the sight. The way his earring dangled into his wild curls, the way his gentle fingers tangled in his hair to pull it back from his forehead. The way his nose-ring caught the light as his nostrils flared slightly while he stared back at Louis, waiting for his reply.

Louis could make love to him for the rest of his life, if Harry asked. He sank down to kiss his answer into his mouth.

//

Louis came down the stairs the following morning to find Tiny Tim laying obediently on the sofa, Evie laid beside him smooshing her cheek into his side as she snoozed.

“Harry?” He called into the kitchen.

“Yeah?” Harry appeared in the archway, a mixture of flustered and sleepy.

“Why is Tim in the house?” Louis asked.

Harry’s mouth opened and his brows lifted but no reasoning occurred. Not for a few awkward, stilted seconds.

“He’s integrating!” Harry beamed at his answer. “Yeah, he’s um...getting used to being small around big people and sharing his space with other animals.”

Louis glanced at the sofa. Tim stared back, shimmying his mane.

“He’s becoming a house pony,” Louis mused as he moved into the kitchen to join Harry, surprised by the changes Harry had made.

The table was draped in a pastel tablecloth, bunting hung up across the ceiling and a vase of pretty flowers arranged in the centre of the table which was crammed with condiments jars of all descriptions

“I’m making bread,” Harry told him as he stared, looking at his grey sweats and t-shirt and wondering if he should get dressed. “You can have it fresh and warm or I can toast it. However, you like it Lou. French, maybe?”

Louis got distracted by the placement of various long glasses half filled with water and housing different bouquets, all propped on various surfaces. His eyes flicked back to the table where Harry’s mail was sat patiently waiting for Louis to open it and—

“You went down to the gate?” Louis asked.

Harry checked his gently crisping bacon on the grill.

“I did,” he murmured.

“Was it ok?” Louis wondered.

Harry hummed.

“The usual.”

Louis came closer to cuddle him around the waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You didn’t have to go out there, love,” he commented softly.

Harry twisted to hug him back.

“Wanted it to look nice. To say thank you.”

Louis smiled, glancing at the table again.

“Think I better start on that mountain of fan mail, don’t you?”

“Does it bother you?” Harry asked as Louis settled by the post.

“What, reading your letters?”

“Like....the adoration,” Harry mumbled.

Louis slit open the first envelope and pulled out a pretty pink card.

“Doesn’t bother me at all,” Louis promised. “I like it,” he smirked.

Harry grinned across at him.

“They asked after you,” he shared, amused.

“Roger?” Louis checked of the committed pap he was coming to know.

“I didn’t stop to get his name; the guys were jostling for a picture and I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

“You went out like that?” Louis flicked his eyes over Harry’s long body covered only by his yellow shorts and Louis' too-small gown.

“And shoes, obviously,” he added.

“Obviously,” Louis chuckled.

Harry delivered the food to the table as it became ready, the sound of faint footfall preceding the appearance of a very small horse.

“Don’t worry I’ve got yours here,” Harry told Tim, bending to scoop him up under his arm to feed him some carrot tops as he walked to the table to sit down by Louis.

Louis watched him curiously while Harry went about loading his own plate one-handed, Tim happily settling with Harry's arm around him securely.

“Is it his birthday or is this a regular thing, now?” He enquired.

“He’s my best friend,” Harry told him. “Besides you. And Niall,” he added.

“Right,” Louis nodded. “I’ll get to work on building an indoor pen for him, then,” he suggested.

“Just a little house maybe,” Harry nuzzled Tim when he finished his greens.

Louis smiled to himself as he buttered his bread to make a bacon sandwich. It was a measure of how far gone he was to even entertain the idea of bringing a _pony_ inside the house.

“We need to fix the fences in Fernando’s field again today, more of it deteriorated in the wind.”

Harry’s head snapped up.

“You’re not going in that field again, Louis."

Louis lifted his brows.

“It's just to fix the fence,” he stated, quiet but certain.

Harry stared.

“I almost lost you to that bull,” he argued. “My heart fell out of my chest seeing you bleeding half to death and you’re not fully healed yet. You’re not going back in there,” he repeated, pushing back his chair to place Tim to the floor, shoulders taut as he strode out of the room.

Louis looked down with a gentle sigh, accosted with Tim’s brown pony eyes, silently accusing him of upsetting Harry.

“You should be outside,” Louis chastised, getting up to pack up the breakfast table.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you reading as you go; I have added an additional chapter and reposted the others in the correct order.

Liam looked at Louis in a way which suggested he was more than well aware of the tension flexing between him and Harry.

Harry had come back down from his room dressed for work, avoiding meeting Louis' gaze while he mumbled something about helping Liam with the fences.

Louis had let the fight go. It didn’t matter who fixed the fence as long as it got done. But he was demoted to standing on the _other_ side of the field, holding up the panels while Harry drove the nails into the boards under Liam’s direction.

Fernando was laid in the far corner lazily, much to Louis’ relief. As much as he insisted to Harry that there was no danger, Louis couldn’t help the growing part of him that wanted to wrap Harry up and protect him.

“Fuck,” the hissed expletive brought Louis' attention back to the moment, Harry huffing before he attempted the nail again.

The strike missed the mark, glancing off the wood.

Louis crouched down to look at Harry through the rungs of the fence, Harry’s knees spread to showcase his strong, slim thighs and his sleeves rolled up to bare his tattooed, sexy forearms.

“Everything okay?” Louis checked, noticing the faint quiver of Harry’s hand clutched around the hammer.

“Fine,” Harry bit out, brows furrowing.

Louis glanced up at Liam who smiled empathetically.

“I might go and get some tea brewing,” he said.

Louis nodded, straightening up to start climbing over the fence. When he dropped on the other side, Harry clenched the hammer in a tight fist.

“I can do this!” He growled, lifting the tools to try again.

“Harry, love,” Louis knelt down to press a palm against his lower back.

“I said_ I can do it_,” Harry elbowed him away gently and placed the nail into position, the hammer shaking slowly in his clenched hand.

Louis waited for Harry to draw his arm back again, sliding his hand back into place on his spine as Harry’s body moved with the swing of his strike.

The hammer jumped at the last second, missing the nail. Harry froze in place, fingers gripped tight around the pieces as his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Love,” Louis said again, soft and quiet, leaning forward to coax his fingers free, the hammer tumbling into the grass.

Harry gasped raggedly, dry heaving sobs racking his body as Louis shuffled closer to cuddle him, Harry's shaky hands covering his face.

“It doesn’t matter, darling,” Louis soothed. “Let me finish the fence, eh? We can have a slice of that angel cake you like with Liam’s tea...”

Harry dropped his hands into his lap.

“You don’t get it!” Harry accused. “How am I supposed to keep this a secret? How the fuck can I turn up on the red carpet and _pretend _I’m not a fucking invalid!”

Louis tucked his hair behind his ear, biting his lip while Harry gasped for breath.

“You’re not an invalid,” be soothed. “And we don’t have to go, okay? If it’s too much to think about, let’s just make popcorn and watch a movie on the sofa.”

“I want people to know about you!” Harry argued. “I mean, properly, “ he added. “I want to be able to take my amazing, supportive boyfriend to an award show and hold his hand without my body fucking betraying me!”

“Hey,” Louis picked up one of Harry's hands to cup his palm around his own cheek, the barely noticeable tremor tickling his skin. “I like your wacky nerves, you know that.”

Harry’s eyes hardened, glaring.

“What about when I can’t even wrap my hand around you to bring you off anymore?” He challenged. “Or I can’t walk? Or I forget our fucking anniversary? Will you still like it then, Louis?”

Louis refused to look away from his dark eyes.

“We um...we have an anniversary?” He ventured, smoothing back Harry’s hair.

Harry flicked his eyes away, teeth clenching.

“Is it from when we first met, or...?”

Harry swallowed, bitterness creasing his face.

“It—I was taking it from when you lit my cigarette,” he whispered.

“Oh,” Louis nodded, surprised but pleased. “Love at first sight,” he mused.

Harry looked at him, eyes softer, face creasing.

“I just want everything to be normal,” he begged hoarsely.

“But love, you’re way too special to be boring old _normal_,” Louis scoffed, threading their fingers together on their free hands.

“I’m not special,” Harry mumbled, eyes dipping to their hands where he flexed his fingers a little.

“Oh, right,” Louis nodded, settling back on his haunches. “So, it wasn’t you that built a custom brace for Evie and saved her life, then?” He asked, earning a huff from Harry. “And it wasn’t you that taught Tim not to be afraid?”

“That wasn't- Anyone would have done the same,” he argued softly.

“Harry, Tim’s been terrorising every visitor we’ve had until you came strolling along on your llama legs and sweet-talked him into being a house-pet. I feel like you’re selling yourself short, here...”

Harry blinked, beautiful lashes sweeping off his cheeks.

“I can hear you, “ he murmured; a phrase Louis remembered him using when Louis had showered him with praise before.

“So, so, special,” Louis leaned close to kiss him on the forehead and temple, cupping the back of his head.

“I’m not a llama,” Harry complained mildly after Louis kissed him on the mouth.

Louis couldn’t help grinning hard.

//

Louis was tamping down his nerves as Frank fitted him for a suit in the men’s formalwear section of the Department store.

Harry was watching proceedings leisurely; distracted by the accessories set up in the private fitting room.

“What colour are you thinking?” Harry asked as he considered some cufflinks.

“Black,” Louis stated.

He watched as Harry typed something into his phone.

“I’m nearly done measuring,” Frank assured. “I’ve already got a good idea what will look great on you.”

Harry twisted with a small box, flashing the tiny anchor-shaped cufflinks at Louis.

“Easy, Frank, this one's mine,” Harry teased warmly.

Louis rolled his eyes, taking the cufflinks to study them.

“We can match,” Harry told him, going back to searching the cabinet. Two minutes later his cheeks dimpled smugly and he presented two infinity ropes.

“We’re really going to be _that _level of smitten,” Louis mused.

“Hey, my fans are _dying _for this to happen,” Harry joked. “I’ve been reading their tweets.”

“You sure you want to go?” Louis checked.

Harry nodded, eyes travelling over him appreciatively while Louis stood there in his boxers and vest.

“I can’t wait to show you off,” he shared.

Louis' lips pursed as his eyes crescented happily.

“Flirt,” he accused fondly.

Harry smiled back, patting Frank on the shoulder.

“Nothing too stunning, I’m not prepared to share him,” he warned.

Frank nodded, stepping back from the podium Louis was stood up on.

“I’m going to bring in a few options,” he said. “Are you getting yours today, Mr. Styles?” He added.

Harry bit his lip guiltily.

“Sorry, Frank, I asked my old stylist to send something up from London. In black,” he added smugly.

Louis stepped down from the podium just as Frank went to find his suits, Louis heading for the chaise lounge to pick up the modesty gown laid there.

“Well, let’s not be hasty,” Harry’s fingers intercepted the robe to stop Louis grasping it, his body shifting to wedge between Louis and the sofa. “I mean... one little kiss wouldn’t hurt,” he smirked right before he angled their mouths together for a kiss that was anything but _little_.

Louis melded against him, Harry’s hands keenly curving over his underwear-clad behind and fingers dipping under the hem of his vest to slide onto his warm skin, palms smoothing firmly over his back as Louis tiptoed into the kiss to press closer.

“Oops!” Frank greeted as he re-entered the room, twisting quickly to avoid seeing anything.

“It’s okay, I’m done here,” Harry smiled lazily, pressing a soft, lasting kiss to Louis' lips. “Save it for later,” he winked, sliding away to saunter out of the room; leaving Louis flustered.

Louis focused on the suits Frank had ferried in, instantly drawn to a double-breasted jacket with something of a feminine fit. He moved toward it to inspect it more closely.

//

Louis sat in the back of the limo, clammy hand twined with Harry’s cool, dry one; his body thrumming nicely thanks to Harry’s spontaneous ardour.

They showered together before they got ready; Harry hoisting him up to fuck him against the wall in a hard, hot way that Louis would have trouble forgetting for some time.

It had been a while since they’d fucked like that, Harry grinding into him and kissing him deeply and Louis hadn’t as much missed it; as appreciated the opportunity to experience it all over again.

Harry looked content and happy as Louis glanced across the back seat at him, his black suit complimenting Louis'. Where Louis' focused on fit, Harry’s was about the detailing. Satin stripes down the outer side of the leg. A slim black tie tucked under his shirt collar and knotted untraditionally, a loose, casual look. His boots were velvet, another touch that brought something different to the standard colour.

“Fuck,” Louis murmured as the limo turned a corner and an explosion of camera flashes could be seen from the car ahead. He fixed his fringe, panicking that he wasn’t smooth enough to be pictured as Harry’s date.

“We can drive right past,” Harry squeezed his hand.

Louis stared at him.

“No,” he assured. “I’m fine. I just...wasn’t expecting to get out of the car to _that_,” he pointed at the couple now in front of the blinding rainfall of bright lights.

Harry leaned across his lap to peer out.

“Looks like they've put the press pen at the pull-up spot,” he murmured. “Just try and focus on a part of their body instead of the actual flash,” He suggested.

“Can I focus on a part of _your_ body?” Louis quipped, looking at Harry.

Harry smiled slowly, dipping his head to kiss him.

“Love you.”

Louis melted, huffing out helplessly.

“I’m getting out first to open your door,” he said.

“No, I am,” Harry argued. “You’re my guest.”

“But _you’re_ the star,” Louis reasoned.

“Think you’ll find _you’re _the sun,” Harry stated. “Which outshines the stars so,” He shrugged and popped his door before the car had fully stopped, leaning across the seat to kiss Louis on the cheek before he unfolded his long body to get out and lope around the car.

Louis startled as his door was opened, Harry shielding the shower of cameras.

“Ready, Lou?” He asked.

Louis nodded and Harry stepped back as he climbed out, Harry taking his hand gallantly to assist him; keeping a hold of it as their eyes met and clung together in a silent conversation before they turned toward the hoard.

“Harry! Over here! Louis, quick smile? Look left!”

They cuddled together, arms around each other as the demands flew about, Harry pressing a kiss into Louis' hair to ease his tension, murmuring in his ear how good he looked.

Louis guided Harry onto the carpet with a hand against his lower back, some of the photographers yelling for Harry to pose for more pictures on his own, a request which he denied by looking for Tom on the carpet to direct him on where to go next.

“Ah, Harry!” Tom strode over to them to greet him.

“This is my boyfriend, Louis,” Harry introduced.

Louis shook the man's hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“The media interviews start here,” Tom pointed further down the carpet past the crowds of exuberant fans. “You should probably spend a bit of time signing first,” he suggested. “Then move down, after.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, looking at Louis. “Will you wait for me?”

Louis nodded, squeezing his hand. “Why don’t I help take pictures?” He suggested.

Harry’s shoulders relaxed a bit in the knowledge Louis wouldn’t be awkwardly stood alone waiting for him.

“Louis, oh my god!” A female fan enthused as he moved to take her camera to snap a photo with Harry.

“Hi,” he smiled shyly. “You ok?”

“I love you both!” She enthused.

Louis went to hand her camera back.

“Can I get one with you both? Please?” She begged.

Louis tucked into the shot, the girl's courage quickly setting a precedence for the rest of the fans, who intermittently asked for Louis to be included in their experience. He signed five autographs with much teasing from Harry and a fond bum-squeeze that Louis was sure he only did because the live videographer for the event was filming Harry among the fans at that moment.

He hung back at the media section, certain that the interviewers wouldn’t know him.

“Harry, we see you’ve brought a date tonight,” Samantha Jones of Heat magazine commented.

Harry automatically twisted to check on Louis. He was chatting to a pair of interviewers further down the line, one of the young men holding a phone to record as Louis spoke. He couldn’t help his proud grin.

“Yeah, looks like he’s popular, already,” he mused.

“There have been rumours in the press which haven’t been complimentary about Mr. Tomlinson, is there anything you want to say to the public about those rumours?” Samantha asked.

Harry swallowed, eyes meeting her determined blue ones, his body tensing at the question. He’d submitted a list of subjects not to be asked about and the headlines involving Louis were on that list. Clearly Samantha didn’t get the memo.

And Tom had warned him not to muddy the waters by being drawn into answering questions about it but as Harry watched the delicate way Louis fixed his hair he knew that the fire in his belly signified more than attraction. It signified _loyalty _and _trust._

_“_Yeah, I do want to say something,” he turned back, meeting her eyes once more. “I want to say: pick someone who's supportive,” he stated. “Don't date a dickhead,” he added with a sweet smile. “Find someone who's got your back. Completely,” he tacked on softly.

He looked at Louis once more, intending to side-step to the next interviewer before Samantha could ask him anything else but Louis was beckoning him over so he doubled back towards him with a happy smile on his face.

//

“Louis! Louis, can we talk to you?”

Louis glanced over his shoulder at the voices calling him, two young lads waving him over. He tilted his head bemusedly, the rest of the media pen crammed with professional, branded microphones and state-of-the-art filming equipment. The two youngsters had their phones and a notebook.

“How did you two break in?” Louis twisted to walk towards them, giving in to his curiosity.

“We're YouTubers,” the first guy told him. “I’m James,” he added. “And this is Matthew. We run a gay lifestyle video blog.”

“Oh,” Louis tilted back on his heels, pocketing his hands as he smiled. “How many followers?”

“Three thousand,” Matthew replied. “After tonight, who knows?”

Louis pursed his lips, nodding once.

“You want me or Harry?” Louis asked.

“You’re our favourite celebrity partner,” James told him with an awed smile. “Our followers really idolize you.”

Louis resisted the urge to dismiss the praise.

“That’s very kind of you, and your audience,” he murmured. “What did you want to ask?”

James looked to Matthew who checked his notebook.

“Sorry, we’re just so excited to meet you. Uh...You’re known for your work with rescuing animals. Why do you think people should choose rescue pets over pedigree breeds?”

Louis' brows rose, surprised by the question.

“Well I’m not here to tell anyone what to do,” he smirked. “And there’s nothing wrong with pedigree. But let me tell you something about rescue animals. They crave love. They need a lot of attention. But they give it back tenfold. You won’t regret investing your time into a rescue animal,” he promised.

“What’s the key to adopting an animal with a difficult past?” Matthew posed next.

“Patience,” Louis answered. “And lots of love.”

“Can you tell us about one of your rescue success stories?” Matthew enquired.

“Hang on,” Louis held up a finger and looked up the carpet for Harry; catching his eye just as Harry turned to look for him, too. Louis gestured him over and Harry began to walk to him. “My boyfriend would be better off answering that one,” Louis explained as the two boys glanced at each other, flustered.

“Hi!” Harry grinned at the pair of them, a cross earring hanging from his earlobe and a diamante stud through his nostril. He’d shaved for the event and styled his wild locks into a smooth mane. Louis felt his breath catch at Harry’s megawatt smile.

“H-Hi,” James waved, still filming while Matthew gaped.

“How are you both?”

“Dead,” James told him. “Officially.”

Harry smiled, looking at Louis and stepping closer to take his hand.

“Are we doing a joint interview?” Harry asked, face shining with unbridled pride.

“They asked me for a success story on one of our rescues,” Louis smiled. “I thought that you should probably answer that.”

“Oh!” Harry giggled, rolling his eyes. “Well, Lou has this miniature Shetland pony who's even smaller than normal and apparently he was pretty mean before I stayed there,” he explained. “I’ve been working with him and he’s a sweetheart now, isn’t he?” Harry turned to Louis.

“He’s a _darling_,” Louis confirmed, amused.

“Would you like to see a picture?” Harry went to slip his mobile phone from his inside jacket pocket.

“Harry, time to go in,” Tom grasped Harry’s shoulder before he had the chance to get his phone out.

“Sorry guys,” he winced.

“Thank you so much for talking to us,” Matthew gushed.

“Huge fans,” James added.

“It was lovely to meet you,” Harry bowed his head, led away by Tom momentarily to squeeze in another carpet interview.

“Hope you got what you were looking for,” Louis winked.

“We’d love to talk to you more about your work,” James ventured, holding out a card. “Here’s our contact information and if you’d like to consider joining us for a Q&A, then we can discuss your terms...”

Louis eyed them curiously, lashes narrowing.

“_Just_ me?” He wondered.

“You’ve got quite a following,” Matthew assured. “I mean you are completely stunning so--"

The young man froze, lips parted as the words left his mouth. His cheeks flushed as the media pen erupted into laughter, Louis softening at his admission.

He jolted slightly as a palm slipped onto his ass.

“I hope you’re not chatting up my boyfriend,” Harry teased as he came back to fetch Louis to head inside.

“N-n-no,” Matthew stammered. “Ohmygod. I can’t believe I said that...”

“Well, I happen to agree,” Harry dipped to kiss Louis lovingly. “He _is_ stunning.”

Louis grasped his jacket for comfort.

“We should go,” he decided. “Great to meet you both. Good luck with your vlog.”

“Oh, when are we going on?” Harry asked Louis as they moved away, fingers tangling together to stay close among the bustling red carpet.

James and Matthew hugged each other and squealed.

//

**“Pick Someone Supportive.” **

**Harry Styles, 26, brought new beau Louis Tomlinson, 28 as his date to the National Television Awards held at the London Docklands last night.**

**Styles was questioned about the abuse allegations against Tomlinson and told the reporter to “Pick someone who’s supportive,” shooting down the claims that Tomlinson is an abusive partner seeking Harry’s fortune.**

**The pair mingled with the acting elite and stopped to speak to fans and media alike. Styles refused requests for solo photographs, cementing his commitment to his date for the night.**

**“We'll never get over tonight,” James Goddard, an up and coming YouTube star said after meeting the couple.**

**“We were genuinely excited to speak to Louis because our audience know how much we love him; but to gain Harry’s attention as well was the icing on the cake... The big gay, rainbow cake,” Matthew Dickens added.**

**Styles' future is still uncertain as he recovers privately from a car accident last year that resulted in him being dropped from the show that made him famous but his appearance last night might suggest that he hasn’t completely dropped out of the limelight.**

**Keep reading _Bizarre_ for all the entertainment news as it happens.**

Louis flung the newspaper away gently after reading the article aloud, he and Harry tangled in bed the morning after the awards.

They had kissed deeply and Louis had fucked him slow; their orgasms intense from the incremental build up; tender kisses exchanged afterwards while Louis lay between Harry’s thighs.

“I’m sorry,” Harry pouted.

“What for?” Louis shifted a bit, lips brushing Harry's jaw, stubble already growing back.

“For being difficult that day in the field,” Harry explained.

Louis frowned, palm gliding down Harry's side as he kissed him leisurely.

“Can’t remember, darling.”

Harry’s lips quirked at the endearment. He’d finished writing the music for Louis' song and was thinking how to showcase it. Matthew and James had booked Louis for an interview already and Harry liked the idea of filming himself singing the song with his guitar. But maybe he could assign the exclusive release of that content to the young men, to play it while Louis was _there_, with them? It would be a complete surprise, a way of saying _thank you _to his boyfriend for being so amazing.

He smiled happily as Louis began to kiss him deeply once more, their desire slowly reigniting.

//

“Thank you for coming in to talk to us,” James rounded up the session with a handshake.

“We’ve just got one more thing before you go,” Matthew smiled, eyes shining mischievously.

Louis lifted his brows.

“Oh?”

“We’ve got an exclusive video here to play before you go,” Matthew told him, loading up the content to stream the video to their viewers at the same time.

Louis sat back in his chair, nerves prickling his skin as he waited for the video to start. It was _Harry._

He was topless in his black jeans, legs crossed, hair a beautiful floppy mess and his jaw lightly fuzzed. Louis felt his heart miss a beat.

“Hi Louis, hi Matthew and James,” video-Harry greeted. “I'd just like to sing this little song to say _thank you _to my Lou,” the Harry on the screen dimpled cutely. “Love you,” he added in a soft voice, before he focused on his instrument and started to strum.

Louis stared, frozen into place by shock as his words, his poem, was brought to life in a lilting song sung beautifully by Harry’s deep voice.

Matthew and James ended the blog with the video, Louis staring at them as his heart remembered how to beat.

“You knew that he planned that?” He asked.

James swallowed nervously.

“We were sworn to secrecy. Had to sign a contract,” he added quietly.

“Fuck,” Louis murmured, standing up on shaky legs. “I have to go.”

“Of course, absolutely, we’re done here,” Matthew got up to escort him. “Thank you so much for coming.”

Louis hugged them both, turning at the door.

“I’ll bring Harry next time,” he promised.

The two boys grinned hard.

“That would be awesome.”

Louis nodded and left, taking a moment to calm down before he began to drive.

//

“Harry?” Louis checked the barn and the yard when the house came up empty from his search, blood pounding around his veins at the monumentality of Harry’s gesture.

He’d written him a _song. _From his own words, his silly poem that had come to him in the wake of Harry's diagnosis. And he’d sung it with his acoustic guitar for the whole world to see.

The video was achingly intimate somehow, despite the public release. The way he was shirtless and barefoot with his messy hair and stubble. Louis got to see that Harry every day. The world wasn’t used to the new version of him, yet. They were accustomed to a groomed, long-haired, smooth-styled Prince.

Louis wanted him. Whichever version, however he came. Small and frightened or strong and tough. He had to pull Harry into his arms _right now._

Harry was feeding the cows when Louis hiked up the field towards him. He straightened up, bucket swinging from his fingers while his other hand dug his digits into his hair to drag it back.

“Lou?” He frowned confusedly at Louis' intense expression, letting out a soft, “Oh,” as Louis wrapped him up in tight arms and used his open mouth to take advantage of kissing him.

The bucket fell from his fingertips, clattering to the ground as he folded his arms around Louis' shoulders and kissed him back.

“You liked the song, then?” Harry rasped.

Louis cupped his jaw.

“Would love to show you how much,” he murmured.

Harry swallowed and nodded, grabbing the bucket before Louis led him down the field by the hand.

//

“Hey, guess what?” Harry asked as they idled in bed, cuddled together and reluctant to break the spell.

“What’s that, love?”

“I got another invitation. To the BAFTAs. The show has another nomination.”

“Would you like to go?” Louis checked.

Harry wriggled a bit in his arms.

“If you’d go with me,” he mumbled.

Louis kissed his forehead.

“Then we'll go,” he promised.

“I’m hoping that a few more interviews talking about how lovely you are might persuade the press to be kind.”

Louis smiled, sliding his leg between Harry's.

“You do know that all I care about is _you_?” He kissed his swollen lips softly.

“But I love you,” Harry defended quietly. “And it upsets me that they printed those things. About you—_hurting_ me,” he stammered over the word, arm tightening across Louis' middle.

“We know what’s true,” Louis assured. “Nothing else matters.”

Harry sighed, curling up in his arms.

“I love you,” he promised.

“Love you too, darling. Let’s get up and see to this circus, eh?”

Harry snorted and curled more tightly against Louis' body for a moment before releasing him so they could both move.

//

The press pen for the BAFTAs was by the building door, allowing Harry to pull Louis out of the car and kiss him before the flashes found them.

They headed straight towards the swathes of fans waiting behind the barriers, Louis surprised to find himself being asked for more pictures this time but he declined shyly, autographing books and explaining that it was Harry’s night and he was just there for moral support.

Harry pulled him into a few photos where fans asked for them both but luckily Louis spotted James and Matthew on the actual carpet and chatted with them off-camera while Harry did the rounds with the crowd.

“You okay, Lou?” Harry asked when he caught him up, concerned eyes fixing on Louis who looked pale under the floodlights.

“Yeah, fine,” Louis fidgeted nervously, swiping the sweat off his upper lip. “Good.”

Harry leaned down to kiss his temple, arm squeezing him lightly before he turned towards the two boys.

“Hello, again,” he greeted warmly.

He’d picked a navy suit to wear with brown boots, his white shirt unbuttoned with no tie. Louis was in navy, too, a simple suit with a white shirt and red tie. Harry curled his fingers through Louis’ as James and Matthew greeted him warmly.

“Any questions for me?” Harry checked.

“Have you got any plans to return to television now that it’s been proved you weren’t drink-driving?” Matthew wondered.

“Ah...well, I’m getting offers coming in now,” Harry shared with a smile. “But I had planned to take a step out of the public eye for a while,” he admitted.

“Would you become a partner in Mr. Tomlinson’s charity?” James posed.

Harry’s teeth flashed as he slid a sideways glance at his boyfriend.

“I think we’ll definitely be discussing that possibility,” he hedged.

“Louis, how would you feel about working with Mr. Styles on a professional level with personal ties?”

Louis watched Harry smirk, brow lifting in patient curiosity.

“Yes, Lou, how would you feel?” Harry pursed his lips.

Louis rubbed his thumb over Harry’s hand.

“I’d feel like a very lucky man indeed,” he professed, earning a quack of laughter from Harry along with a deeply dimpled smile.

“He’s so cheesy,” Harry lamented softly to Matthew.

“Our viewers have all contributed towards this book,” James handed over a fan-book stuffed with messages. “We want to tell you how grateful we are for you both, as gay icons individually and together as a power couple. We hope that one day you can use your influence to shape the attitudes around the world to be more inclusive. Your love is a shining example that gender shouldn’t matter.”

Louis took the book, glancing up at Harry.

“Love wins, always,” Harry stated, swallowing thickly.

“Thank you so much,” Louis patted the book. “We'll read through it when we get home.”

He twisted to hand it to their assistant, Kayleigh, who stacked it on top of the other fan mail she was collecting at their specific request.

“Right, we should move on,” Harry tugged Louis' hand as they rewound their fingers.

Louis nodded and followed him toward the wall of paparazzi baying for celebrities to pose for photos.


	11. Chapter 11

“I don’t think I can see anymore,” Harry complained mildly as he squeezed his eyes shut, sliding his arm from around Louis' waist where they’d been posing together in front of the flashes.

He strode a few steps to the side of the section, blinking the residual red dots in his vision slowly away.

“Lou?” He turned back to check on his boyfriend, expecting him to be caught up with another interviewer.

He froze as Louis came into view, standing on his own in the middle of the carpet.

“Lou?” He said again, starting forward, eyes flicking to the people surrounding them, all tucked back against the barriers, leaving a deliberate perimeter around the space where Louis stood.

Only the odd camera flashed, Louis swallowing as Harry paused.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

Louis took a shaky breath and lowered himself to one knee; the wall of flashes intensifying but there was no shouting or calling out and Harry stared helplessly at the photographers, eyes flitting to the people hanging on the side-lines before returning to his beau.

“Fuck,” he gasped, tears coming to his eyes.

“I think it’s safe to say we’ve been through more than most couples,” Louis began. “And this is the _last_ way I saw this happening,” he added with a nervous huff. “But I want everyone to know that _you're _my future,” Louis said. “I want it to be crystal clear that I don't care about your money or your fame or what the papers say. I love _you. _ For the gentle, caring, beautiful man that you are. For everything that you've taught me and for how you love every creature on my land- including _me_,” he added with a derisive smirk. “I love you for singing a song for me that everyone saw, just because you hated the idea that people thought badly of me. I love your kisses and your cuddles and all the stuff that I can’t talk about right now...”

Harry dimpled, hip cocking slightly.

“I love your soul, Harry. I think mine and yours belong together. I think _we _belong together. I hope you agree,” he murmured as he dipped into his pocket to bring out a small box.

Harry’s breath caught, tears trickling down his cheeks untouched.

“Harry Styles, will you marry me?” Louis asked.

Harry strode the few feet between them to crash to his knees, a desperate “Yes,” breathed against Louis' mouth before he kissed him, deep and messy; fingers sliding into Louis' neatly quiffed hair.

He didn’t care about the cameras or who could see them, he just pulled Louis into his arms and kissed him like both their lives depended on it.

The bustle around them soon returned, their moment captured and avidly documented, but the show had to go on.

Harry cupped Louis' face in his hands.

“You’re so naughty,” he murmured.

Louis smiled, lifting the box.

“Open it,” he invited.

Harry’s tears flooded back as he studied the simply divine ring; a pink diamond centred around a flower shaped pink gold base with white diamonds embedded in the petals. It was delicate and stunning, a unique design.

“Lou, how did you afford this?” Harry worried, eyes flicking to him. “You didn’t take out a loan, did you? I didn’t need a fancy ring to say yes, you know.”

Louis smiled, softly kissing him as he slid the ring on to his finger.

“It’s an heirloom, actually,” he confided. “My mum gave it to me before she passed away, it was always her intention that I use it to propose.”

“Oh, wow,” Harry gulped back his emotion, hands starting to quiver.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Louis hugged him. “Shall we go inside?”

Harry nodded and let Louis guide him inside.

//

Harry flicked through the slew of papers on the table, Liam and Niall busy in the same task while Louis toasted and buttered crumpets to bring over.

“Is it okay that I did it this way?” Louis smoothed a hand over Harry’s shoulders, pausing to bite his lip worriedly.

Harry looked up, shifting to guide Louis between his thighs and tugging Louis down so that he sat in his lap. He cupped the back of his neck to kiss him, humming with a smile as he pecked him noisily before he pulled away.

“Yes,” he answered emphatically. “Incredibly ok.”

“Get a room, would you?” Niall accused as they started kissing again, the papers momentarily forgotten.

“This _is_ a room,” Harry countered. “In fact, we could make use of this table right here,” he tapped it as Louis grinned at him.

“Right, that’s our cue,” Liam stood up. “Cute pictures, though. The carpet must have gone crazy when you cleared it to get on one knee,” he added to Louis.

“It was pretty wild,” Louis mused.

“Alright, see you at rehearsal,” Niall grabbed a crumpet and sloshed back the last of his tea. “Want to add that song of yours to our set list,” he added.

“Mmhmm,” Harry agreed, fingers already encroaching on Louis' skin under the hem of his t-shirt.

“Ugh, at least wait until we're gone!” Niall slammed the kitchen door behind him. “Disgusting!” He added from outside.

Harry pulled Louis' t-shirt off without pausing, fingers quickly starting on his jeans.

//

Louis' thighs squeezed Harry's hips as his body flexed gently around his thick heat, eyes locked as they panted out hotly in sync.

Louis' back was to the table, Harry's hands gently supporting Louis' legs as he thrusted, surging hotly in and easing sweetly out with a steady rhythm.

“Jesus,” Louis arched his back, fingertips clawing into the surface of the table desperately as Harry picked up his pace.

“Hmm,” Harry leaned forward slightly, sliding his hand into the small of Louis' back to hold him up at a new angle, lips fastening to his torso in passionate, lingering presses.

The shift in angle had Louis’ toes curling, gasping out Harry's name.

Harry grunted and hauled Louis lower on the table to screw into him; rough and steady, Louis giving himself up to the pleasure.

He reached out to touch himself, Harry’s dark gaze following his hand, tongue lathing over his lips as he looked, Louis stroking over his hard dick in time with Harry’s thrusts.

When Harry leaned in to press their bodies flat together, Louis felt crushed by his weight, deliciously unable to breath until Harry's arms locked around his waist and lifted him up.

“H-oh,” he panted, linking his ankles over Harry’s ass as Harry straightened, Louis sinking down onto him.

Harry looked into his eyes before kissing him hotly, one hand cupping Louis' ass, two fingers circling Louis' rim to feel himself there, stretching him open.

“So pretty,” Harry said deep and husked, kissing Louis with a ravaged moan as Louis quivered around him again, tight and full of Harry.

“Want you to come like that,” Harry told him. “Full of me.”

Louis stopped bobbing up and down, breath catching in his throat.

Harry made a noise in his own throat and leaned forward, gently laying Louis back on the table to fuck into him, staying deep as they kissed and this time Harry unwound Louis' fingers from his dick to stroke him with his own, Louis tempering his fidgeting hips that urged to arch upwards.

“Harry,” he begged, feet curling around the backs of his thighs as Harry stayed heavy on top of him, dick thick inside as he fisted Louis off.

“Hm? Is it good?” He checked.

Louis nodded but his lashes flickered, eyes rolling back as the warm pulse of his orgasm began to lap over him.

“Yeah, that’s the way,” Harry coaxed, nudging his hips gently to shift within him.

It was slow and overwhelming, a deep, sweet release that Louis spurted through, Harry gasping and coming inside him in response.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Harry told him in a slow voice before he kissed him equally slow.

He eased out, Louis' body flickering in its loss.

“Soon,” Louis promised as Harry cleaned them up enough to get to the bathroom.

//

“So, you're engaged,” Des Styles said as Harry opened the back door to the knock that came on Saturday morning.

“I called you,” Harry told him.

Des smirked.

“So did Louis. Two days before the media swarm blocked my drive,” he mused. “Congratulations,” he added, hugging Harry warmly.

“Come inside,” Harry invited. “I’m just making lunch.”

Des stepped into the kitchen to find a black and white kitten sat obediently watching the counter, Tim stood beside him swishing his tail. When he glanced at the counter he could make out a tin of cat food and various greens.

“And there was me thinking you meant you were making _your_ lunch,” his Dad teased. “Hello, you two,” Des stooped to pet the animals.

“Did Louis really call you first?” Harry twisted to asked, finishing opening the can of cat food.

“For my permission,” Des shared as he slid off his jacket to hang it on the back of a chair.

Harry paused, looking at his Dad.

“That's—”

“Pretty damn impressive,” Des nodded. “Even if I didn’t like him, I’d have given my blessing just for that alone.”

Harry smiled, going back to his task.

“You _do_ like him, though,” he argued.

“Very much,” Des nodded.

“Ditto,” Harry winked.

“Can I see the ring?” His father asked as Harry placed two food bowls on a rubber mat by the door, beside two water bowls already placed there.

Harry washed his hands and joined his father at the table.

“Wow, that’s pretty special,” Des awed. “The newspapers don’t do it justice.”

Harry dimpled.

“It’s a family piece,” he explained in a gentle voice. “It’s unique.”

“He obviously loves you very much,” his Dad smiled.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded with a swallow.

“Is Louis around?” He checked.

“He’s up in the fields. I’ll send him a text,” he added, slipping his phone out to do just that.

Five minutes later, Louis swept into the kitchen with an excited grin, arms opening wide.

“Hey! Dad-in-law,” he beamed.

Des chuckled and walked over to hug him.

“I’m sorry for being difficult before. I’m glad you proposed to my son, Louis. You’re an exemplary young man.”

Louis huffed shyly, shucking his coat.

“Has Harry showed you his ring?” He asked.

“Just had a look. It’s stunning,” he complimented. “Suits him perfectly.”

“We just need to plan the wedding, now,” Louis murmured.

“Enjoy your engagement for a while,” Des suggested.

“Why don’t you stay for lunch?” Louis invited. “I’ll get some tea on,” he added, freeing Harry up to sit with his Dad.

He was just steeping the tea bags when tiny hooves pattered across the floor.

“And what do you want, hm?” Louis asked, crouching to look at Tim.

The pony ventured closer, dipping his head to butt Louis' hand gently.

“He wants a hug,” Harry told him from the table.

“Oh,” Louis swallowed, opening his arms to carefully lift the animal up, adjusting him so that he could look into his eyes, still. “Happy now?”

Tim let out a little horse-noise that had Louis grinning hard.

“He’s such a diva,” Louis commented as he rubbed his cheek against Tim’s neck.

Harry and Des were smiling at him from the table.

“Oh, the tea,” he remembered with a rueful huff.

“I’ll do it,” Harry got up, stroking Tim as he passed and whispering something in his ear.

“You really are a pony whisperer,” Louis accused.

Harry smirked, pouring their tea. Another knock sounded at the back door which Louis went to answer with Tim cradled to his chest protectively.

“There's the little romantic devil I call my son!” Mark greeted, sweeping Louis and Tim into a hug. “Where’s my bonnie son in law?” He asked, stepping into the room.

Harry waved shyly from where he was placing mugs on the table.

“Oh, the whole family is here!” He enthused, striding in towards Harry. “Come here, lad,” he opened his arms.

Harry sank into the hug gratefully.

“We’ve got you safe now, don’t you worry,” Mark promised.

He pulled away and shook Des' hand as the other man stood to greet him.

“Never been prouder of them,” Mark sniffed.

“It’s brilliant news,” Des smiled.

“Did you like the ring?” Mark checked.

Harry's smile was indicative of just how much he liked his ring. He willingly showed it off.

“Looks good,” Mark winked, pulling Harry into another hug.

“Alright Dad, you can put him down now,” Louis teased.

Harry wiped away happy tears as they settled with tea and biscuits.

“I can make enough lunch for everyone,” he offered.

“Why don’t we take them out?” Des suggested to Mark. “A celebratory lunch.”

“I’m on board,” Mark nodded. “Lads?” He checked with Harry and Louis.

They both nodded, getting ready to leave.

//

“Lou?”

“Yes, love?”

Harry picked at the blue knit of Louis' jumper, curled with him on the sofa watching an old movie while Louis read a book on animal psychology.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Harry’s leg quivered slightly where it pressed against Louis'. Louis put down his book.

“What’s up, petal?”

Harry snorted, tilting back to look up at him.

“New nickname?”

“I’ve decided to bombard you with affectionate pet-names until we get married,” Louis shared.

“And then I become the old ball and chain?” He teased.

“Then you become _husband,_” Louis corrected.

“Oh,” Harry squirmed as a certain warmth flooded him. “Okay, I can live with that.”

“What did you want to talk about, love?”

Harry cleared his throat.

“Well I want to make sure we’re both on the same page,” he ventured. “I’ve been thinking about my future and the difficulties I’m going to face -with _you-_” He added quickly so that Louis didn’t get the wrong idea. “But I think that it’s best not to bring children into this equation,” he stated. “As much as I would love to be able to experience that with you, I’m just not sure that I can bring a child into our lives; knowing that I might not be able to look after him or her properly.”

Harry shifted to get a better view of Louis’ face, to read his expression. He watched Louis' thick eyelashes dip to his cheeks and lift again, blue eyes settling on Harry.

“Did you think that might change my feelings?” Louis wondered.

“I thought it might,” Harry twisted a bit, cramped up under Louis' arm; cradled into his body.

“Love, I want _you_,” Louis promised. “And if children are something you want and you're scared about how your illness affects that, then I’m happy to look into it,” he vouched. “But if that’s not what you want, then I’m not willing to lose you over it.”

“Some people want kids more than _anything_, Lou,” Harry pointed out. “I just want to be sure that we want the same thing.”

Louis gazed at him, wrapping both arms around him.

“We want the same thing,” Louis assured.

Harry let out a breath, sniffing tearily as he smushed his cheek against Louis' chest, curling onto his front to settle into the cuddle.

“I was scared that you’d want out,” Harry whispered. “That having kids was more important than _us_.”

“Oh, darling,” Louis soothed him, squeezing tight.

Harry let his tears fall, body sagging heavily against Louis' chest as he became exhausted, Louis holding him as he drifted into sleep.

//

“What are we doing today, then?” Mark Tomlinson asked as he strode across the yard with Harry, headed for the paddock.

“I need to examine the llamas,” Harry told him. “We’re going to have to lead them one by one into a corner, wrap this blanket around them,” he showed Mark the folded-up blanket draped over his forearm. “And if you can hold them while I take a look, then we should get on okay,” he smiled.

Louis had driven into town for a meeting with the bank about the charity account, taking Liam with him for support.

When Mark had offered to help Harry out at the farm, Harry had insisted he’d be fine on his own but when Mark pulled up in the yard, insistent on helping out, Harry decided to start a few jobs he’d been meaning to do for some time.

“The road’s clear of paps now,” Mark commented as Harry hitched a piece of spare fence into one corner as a make-shift divider.

“The injunction finally got issued,” Harry shared. “Now that we’ve officially announced our relationship things should ease up.”

Mark gave him a bemused smile.

“Think you’re underestimating your popularity,” he broached. “You're still being talked about, a week after the BAFTAs were held.”

“You can blame Louis for that,” Harry teased. “Gossip columns love a public display of affection.”

“Think it’s more than that,” Mark countered. “The public loves you both. Louis seems to be growing his own fan base.”

Harry’s smile was achingly proud.

“Yeah. He’s incredible, though, so that’s not a surprise.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do, now?” Mark posed as they led Mozart to the corner first.

“I like the idea of opening my own practice,” Harry admitted. “I can control the number of hours I do. I’d basically be treating the rescued animals, here on site,” he suggested.

“And you can afford to do all that?” Mark checked.

Harry swallowed, lifting Mozart’s feet one by one to check his hooves.

“I have enough money to see Louis and I comfortably into old age without either of us having to work again,” he admitted quietly.

“Oh,” Mark cleared his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound critical,” he added.

“Not at all,” Harry crouched to check under Mozart’s belly, fixing his stethoscope into his ears to listen to the llama’s heart.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going into it without considering the reality of how much it would cost,” Mark explained.

Harry smiled up at him.

“I understand. Louis' just got this place back on an even keel and I’m still new to it all,” he acknowledged. “I wouldn’t want Lou to risk his pride and joy for me like that. I’d cover the cost of building a practice here,” Harry assured. “If Louis is happy with that.”

“You both have this amazing opportunity to use your public standing to do real good in the world,” Mark said, reminding Harry of Matthew's words.

“We should really sit down and talk about that,” Harry mused. “You’re not the first one to point that out to me.”

Harry straightened up from his examination, head spinning sharply and causing him to stagger backward, clumsy feet stumbling and catching together to topple him to the ground with an indignant, ‘oof!’.

Mark let go of Mozart’s reins to dash over, cupping the back of Harry’s head to prevent him lashing it backwards onto the ground.

“Easy, Bambi,” Mark told him softly, checking Harry’s temperature and pulse as he awkwardly tried to sit up. “Try and lay still for me.”

Harry huffed and blinked, frowning confusedly as sparkles appeared in his vision.

“I’m okay,” he lied as Mark stripped off his jacket to roll it up to place under Harry’s neck.

“Humour me,” the older man held his hand and Harry realised then that he was shaking slightly.

“This is why I told Louis we can’t have kids,” Harry shared in a broken voice. “Imagine me going over like that with a child in my arms...”

“I think you should get your blood pressure checked,” Mark suggested. “When did you last eat?”

Harry blinked at him.

“I only had coffee at breakfast,” he admitted.

Mark lifted a brow.

“Right, then we're going inside to have breakfast before we finish with these llamas.”

Harry nodded numbly, feeling bad for worrying Mark unnecessarily.

//

“I’m really okay now,” Harry said as Mark served up his third pancake.

“You know, having kids isn’t impossible,” Mark poured more batter into the pan regardless of Harry’s claim, sprinkling chocolate chips onto the mixture before it set.

Harry chewed on his honey-drizzled pancake and nodded.

“Not impossible,” he agreed. “But that’s not the kind of life I'd want to bring a child into.”

Mark looked through the cupboards and grabbed a bottle, bringing it to the table. _Chocolate sauce. _Harry eyed him bemusedly.

“Think of the charities you and Louis could endorse, instead,” Mark suggested. “There's so many children’s causes that you could help. You could get as involved as you want to, visit sick kids in hospitals, that kind of thing...”

Harry had only just popped the last bite of his current pancake in his mouth when Mark delivered the fresh one.

“Think we’ve got one more we can squeeze in,” the older man smiled, earning a wan smile in return from Harry.

“Yum.”

He stared at the back door, willing Louis to return from town early.

“I just—I hope I’m not taking anything away from Louis, you know?” Harry expressed. “Or you,” he added looking up to see Mark flipping the last, small pancake. “You must have dreamed of having grandchildren.”

Mark took the pan off the heat and laid it to one side, wiping his batter-splattered hands on a towel before he walked over.

“Get up, lad,” Mark instructed and Harry abandoned his breakfast to receive the bear-hug Mark landed on him.

“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled, tightening his arms around the older man.

“What is it you think you’ve got to be sorry for?” Mark pulled away to ask.

“Everything,” Harry sniffled.

“As long as Louis is happy, I’m happy,” Mark promised, giving Harry another squeeze just as the back door opened and Louis and Liam spilled in among excited chatter.

They paused when they took in the scene.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asked his Dad.

Mark gestured him over, Louis frowning confusedly as Harry transferred from Mark’s arms to his own with a wet sniff; Louis immediately cuddling him in comfort.

“Did you hurt yourself, love?” Louis asked him, eyes flicking to his Dad in silent question.

“Liam and I will be outside,” Mark said with a pat to Louis' shoulder, guiding the other man out of the kitchen.

Louis let out a breath, letting Harry cry on his shoulder for as long as he needed, soothing words accompanying his hands, stroking over his arms and back.

“Angel, what happened?” Louis coaxed when Harry’s sniffs slowed to barely anything.

“I fell,” he managed in a thick, deep voice, lifting his head from Louis' shoulder to look him in the eye.

“Are you okay?” Louis tucked his hair back lovingly.

Harry nodded, swallowing hard.

“I got dizzy when I stood up and I tripped on my own feet,” he shared.

Louis smiled a little.

“Babe, you're going to have to be careful,” he murmured. “Those drinking rumours might re-surface...”

Harry smiled, taking a shaky breath.

“I was thinking about your Dad,” he went on. “And how he probably pictured having grandchildren and how I’m taking that away from you both and-"

“I thought we talked about this,” Louis soothed.

Harry nodded mutely, eyes dipping to the kitchen floor. Louis looked at the table, spotting the uneaten food.

“He made you his chocolate pancakes?” Louis awed.

Harry looked around, the pancake rolled up and covered in sauce but untouched.

“Do you want it, Lou?” Harry asked.

Louis guided Harry to a seat and delivered a hot drink before he warmed up the pancake in the microwave for a few seconds.

“The last time my Dad made these was when I was about eighteen and had the flu,” Louis recalled.

“I ate three before the chocolate one,” Harry assured.

“Mmm,” Louis smiled around a gooey mouthful. “Want some?”

Louis fed him the treat from the same spoon, Harry licking up the chocolate sauce that dropped down his chin. Louis shifted up beside him to kiss the rest away, kissing his mouth a little afterwards.

“There’s one more on the stove,” Louis told him as they finished the chocolate one together.

“Can we have honey on it?” Harry voted. “I had a honey one and it was _incredible_...”

Louis fetched the pan and served the last pancake with a smile.

“We can have whatever you like, sweetheart.”

Harry gave him an endearing smile.

“I’m going to start calling you _pookie_,” he warned.

Louis watched Harry drizzle honey over the food, Harry feeding the first bite to Louis this time.

“Hey,” Louis complained when Harry smeared honey on his cheek, leaning over to scoop Louis toward him with his arm just so he could lick it off.

“You taste really good, Lou,” Harry rumbled, shoving a spoonful of pancake into his own mouth to chew on it slowly.

Louis slipped an arm around his waist to kiss his temple.

“Feel better now, love?” He checked.

Harry nodded. “How was the bank meeting?”

“Really good,” he enthused. “They said we can take interest off the capital sum to pay for the monthly outgoings and set up a separate fund for one-off costs like the fencing and that.”

“That’s amazing,” Harry dimpled, a brief knock sounding on the door before Mark re-entered.

“All good?” the older man’s eyes went between them and settled on Harry.

Harry nodded.

“Thank you, Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Can you call me Mark now that you’re engaged?” He wondered. “Liam and I just swept the yard and fed the animals. Not sure what I’m looking for on the llamas if I’m honest,” he joked.

Louis chuckled, rubbing Harry’s back.

“We’ll finish that up later,” he decided. “Thanks for helping out.”

“I’m off now,” Mark said, Louis moving to hug him goodbye, Harry lingering in the older man's embrace.

“Is Liam still out there?” Louis checked.

“Just heading up to say goodbye,” Mark saluted before he left, Liam arriving in the doorway looking flustered.

“Li, thanks for staying,” Louis appreciated.

“That demon escaped!” Liam panted.

Harry’s head snapped up.

“Tim?” He asked

“Yeah! He just charged at my legs when I was slipping through the gate and—”

Harry jammed his feet into his wellies and dashed outside, knocking Liam out of the way in his haste.

“Go on home, buddy,” Louis hugged his friend. Liam smiled, heading off as Louis put his own coat back on and grabbed Harry’s on his way out into the yard.

//

“Tim? Timmy, love!” Harry called, circling the yard, knowing the pony couldn’t have gotten that far since the entire farm was well enclosed.

“Hey,” Louis jogged up beside him. “Put your coat on, Hazza,” he murmured.

Harry impatiently shouldered the jacket, eyes scanning the yard while Louis buttoned it for him.

A distant, tiny whinny had Harry starting forward, reaching behind him with a focused frown to grasp Louis' hand as he headed for the ditch that was dug out behind the barn to catch excess rainwater.

“I think he’s down there,” Harry pointed at the four-foot-deep trench, grown over with weeds; a few river reeds sprouting up towards the surface.

When they reached the edge of the dip, Harry slowed down, pausing a couple of feet away, listening for movement.

“Timmy?” He called gently, squeezing Louis' hand.

In the corner, blades of grass rustled and Harry let out a breath of relief, kneeling at the edge.

They scanned the shadowed cavern; the thick foliage and lack of light making it difficult to see.

“I think he’s hiding,” Harry winced. “We can’t just haul him out, he needs to earn our trust or it’ll take weeks to get him back to normal,” He beseeched.

“I’ll grab the ladder,” Louis stated, running to fetch the device.

//

“You okay to go down there?” Louis checked as he settled the ladder in the hole.

Harry nodded and slowly made his way down, the water level just above his ankles as his boots squelched in the mud.

“Tim? It’s me, Harry,” he murmured softly. “We know you got scared of Liam and broke out...but it’s time to come inside now, lovely. Time to come home, hm?”

Harry crouched, seeing movement among the grass but still unable to focus on a body.

“Timmy...how about a cuddle?” Harry posed. “I’ve had a difficult day and I’d love one of your hugs...”

He swallowed, eyes darting up to the top of the trench where Louis was knelt, peering over. Harry gasped as Tim's nose appeared out of the grass, sniffing nervously.

“Hey, there you are,” he praised. “There’s my good boy...”

Two stumpy legs preceded the very keen, shaky body of a very scared pony.

“Come on, then,” Harry encouraged quietly, holding out his arms.

Tim struggled to climb out of the thick patch, mud squelching under his hooves.

“Oh, you're stuck,” Harry dropped to his knees in the water, reaching out to put his hands on Tim's body. “Don’t struggle, lovely. You’ll tire yourself out. Let me just--" Harry used one hand to unthread the grass, freeing one hoof at a time until Tim could clamber out of the thicket to stumble between Harry's thighs in his excitement to see him.

“Hey, there we go,” Harry picked him up to curl his arms around him tightly. “You’re safe now, boo.”

“I’m beginning to think you love this horse more than me,” Louis murmured from the top.

“Always have, always will,” Harry flashed him a smile before shifting to get up.

He steadied himself in the mud before trudging back to the ladder, glancing up the steep incline with a huff.

“Timothy, I’m not going to lie, this isn’t going to be easy,” Harry told the quivering animal. “I’m going to tuck you in my coat and climb up really slowly okay? So you won't fall. I promise, I won’t let you fall,” he kissed the back of his ear before unbuttoning his jacket to rest Tim against his chest, buttoning it back up carefully.

Tim struggled while Harry soothed him with his voice and then he grasped the sides of the ladder and pulled himself up, the wet legs of his jeans clinging uncomfortably to his skin.

“Remind me to start wearing utility trousers,” he muttered to Louis who was reaching down to help him once he reached high enough on the ladder.

Harry flopped out at the top, Tim pressed close to his chest as Louis checked them over.

“Let’s get you both inside and clean you up.” He suggested.

//

Harry sat in a fluffy, warmed towelling gown with a towel twisted around his hair, drying Tim’s fur as the pony laid sleepily in his lap.

Louis brought them hot chocolate and apple slices, the small pony eating from his fingers and accepting a fuss from Louis while Harry sipped his drink.

“Lou, he can’t go back outside,” Harry appealed.

“Well, he _can_,” Louis mused.

“He’ll be scared, now,” Harry pouted.

“I started on his hut,” Louis smiled. “He’ll feel safe in there...”

“Evie misses him,” Harry argued, their cat sitting beside Harry’s thigh, watching worriedly and waiting patiently for permission to join in.

“She sees him all the time,” Louis countered.

“You said we could put his house _inside_,” he reminded.

“Did I? Must have really wanted to fuck you,” he joked.

Harry rolled his eyes. Louis gave up his ruse.

“I’ll finish the house tomorrow,” he promised softly. “Can he sleep in a box tonight?”

Harry nodded, tugging a fleece blanket off the back of the couch to wrap Tim in it.

“Or with me,” he murmured.

“Ousted for a farm animal,” Louis sighed, mock dramatically.

“He’s traumatised,” Harry glared at him. “He’s still shaking, poor boo.”

“Right, okay,” Louis agreed mildly. “Now that we’ve established that a donkey has complete control over the entire house, can we think about dinner? I’m a fan of ordering in pizza,” he voted.

“He’s a _pony _not a donkey,” Harry corrected gently. “And I’m getting the feeling you're jealous of a miniature pony, Lou. Is it because he’s smaller than you?”

Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever, Princess. What pizza do you want, I’m hungry and I want to get it ordered?”

“Margherita, please,” Harry selected. “Tim will have the fudge cake!” He called as Louis left the room via the archway.


	12. Chapter 12

Tim’s little pony feet trotted across the carpeted floor of the bedroom before the sun was up.

Louis woke up to his sad little face staring at him from beside the bed, forcing him to turn over to block him out. He heard the uncertain patter of his feet and rolled back over with a sigh, reaching over the edge.

“Hey, come here,” he called as the pony looked beseechingly at the window. Tim turned his head to look at Louis. “Come on, love,” he murmured.

Tim turned toward him and slowly clopped over, pausing just out of reach.

“Look, I’m letting you move in, aren’t I? Remember who saved you from the travelling show, Tiny,” he huffed. “I loved you first.”

Tim walked closer, Louis’ hands tightening around him gently before lifting him up.

He stood Tim on his chest, expecting the animal to clamber over the bedsheets to curl up beside Harry but he merely bent his front legs and then his back legs and settled right there.

Louis loosely wound his arms around him and drifted back to sleep.

//

“Why are you smirking?” Niall demanded as Harry arrived for band practice carrying his guitar.

“Nothing,” Harry smirked.

“There _is_ something,” Niall narrowed his eyes. “Is there something you're not telling me?”

Harry lifted his ring finger to show off his engagement ring.

“Oh, let’s see,” Niall crowded him to grab his hand, staring at his finger. “Jesus, the Tommo really loves you,” he smiled.

Harry dimpled.

“Yeah. It’s mutual. We’ve discussed it.”

“But I already knew about the ring,” Niall glanced at him suspiciously. “So, what gives?”

Harry cleared his throat, sitting down on an amp to tune his guitar

“Have you looked at Twitter today?” He asked.

“Ohhhh, shit,” Niall grinned. “What have you done, Haz?”

Harry grinned back, shrugging.

“Told you. Nothing.”

Niall furiously navigated his phone; eyes scanning his screen avidly for Harry’s tweets, his lips falling open as he found it.

“There’s a picture,” he said.

“Yep.”

“Of Louis in bed.”

“Uh huh.”

“In..._your_ bed,” he swallowed.

“Well, _his_, technically...”

“Your leg is in the picture.”

“It is,” Harry giggled.

“And there’s a fucking baby horse in his arms,” Niall looked at Harry bemusedly.

“Actually, he’s a pony,” Harry explained.

“Why is there a pony in his _bed_?” Niall demanded.

“Long story,” Harry smirked. “Read the caption.”

Niall scrolled up a bit to capture the words typed above the very intimate photo.

_My boys _❤❤

“Oh, you sappy bastard,” Niall snorted.

Harry got up just to swipe him.

“I’m in love, leave me alone,” he complained.

“Well at least Louis is a decent lad,” Niall supposed.

“I think I’ve cried more in front of Louis than I’ve cried throughout the rest of my life put together,” Harry joked. “And he still wants to marry me, so he must be alright.”

“Considering I could barely get the guy to come to the pub on a Friday night, and he proposed to you in front of the whole world, I think it’s safe to say that our Tommo's whipped,” Niall commented.

Harry's lips tugged into a crooked, soft smile.

“Yeah he did do that, didn’t he?” He murmured, starting to strum his guitar.

“You’re a very lucky man indeed,” Niall smiled.

Harry looked up from his strumming with a thoughtful frown.

“You think I should do something for him?” He asked.

Niall gave Harry a music sheet for _Knocking on Heaven’s Door_ by Guns'n'Roses.

“Like what?” Niall wondered.

“Like...take him out for a nice meal or a weekend away or something.”

“Didn’t you just book a luxury hotel while you were in London?”

“Yeah, but it was kind of a whirlwind both times we went, you know?”

“Louis would probably be better off with fish and chips by the sea,” Niall confided. “He’s not all that into the hoity toity stuff. Plus, he doesn’t like to be away from the farm for too long...”

Harry followed the music sheet and strummed the song.

“You’re right,” Harry smiled to himself. “He'd love something close to home. I’ll look into it,” he vouched.

“Bit cold for skinny dipping, Hazza,” Niall teased. “Don’t Let the paps catch you making out.”

Harry flicked his plectrum, the plastic piece bouncing off Niall's forehead.

//

Louis was running errands at the market in Doncaster City when he noticed something strange happening.

Harry had tagged along with him in the truck, disappearing into the market crowds to purchase vegetables he said he needed for meals he was planning to make.

Louis was happy to let him roam as long as he felt safe there among the bustling shoppers while Louis loaded up the truck with animal feed and bedding; a task which Harry said he'd help with once he'd looked around but that Louis secretly planned to have finished by the time Harry made it back to the truck.

People started gathering by the truck as Louis relayed back and forth; market-goers pausing from their purchases to look at him before conversing with each other and by the time Louis had clocked the reaction was for _him_, the first paparazzi was already on the scene, blinding him with flashes as he struggled to shunt a feed sack onto the flatbed of his truck.

He staggered and tilted dangerously to one side, the sack landing awkwardly on the pavement and splitting the brown paper material; causing the food to spill out on the ground.

“Shit,” Louis huffed, on his knees, utility gloves tugged off with a sigh.

“Smile for the camera, Louis,” the photographer demanded, stepping up close and shoving the lens into Louis' face.

Louis turned his face away, sliding his body sideways to rest on his thigh as he checked the knees of his jeans, one ripped with the impact of his fall.

“Lou?” Harry's confused, deep voice cut through the crowd with his body, his bags of purchases quickly dropped so he could rush over to cup his elbows. “Are you ok? What happened?”

“_He_ happened,” Louis tipped his head to the pap still flashing away, Harry looking up with a grimace.

“I think you’ve got enough pictures, don’t you?” Harry asked.

The photographer released the shutter in his face.

“You posted a tweet in bed with your boyfriend, Styles, what did you expect?” The photographer sneered.

Harry stood up, charging towards the photographer to grasp his jacket; a snarl on his face.

“Can’t you see that he’s hurt? You caused him to fall and all you care about is your photos? Take a few more of my angry face and make a _real _story!” Harry invited, tensing as strong hands gripped his arms to pull him away.

“Harry, he’s not worth it,” Bryan, the flower stall owner, soothed.

Harry’s nostrils flared as he glared at the pap, chest heaving.

“You best get shot,” Bryan added to the photographer as Harry shook Bryan’s hands off him, turning to help Louis up.

Louis was already being assisted when Harry slid an arm around his waist, thanking the man who had stopped to help.

A crowd had gathered around them, phone cameras posed to capture their every move as Harry cupped Louis' jaw to gaze into his eyes.

“You sure you’re okay?” He checked.

Louis nodded, lifting his knee to brush his fingers over the torn material.

“No grazes,” he promised. “The only victim is the sheep food,” Louis lamented of the torn sack.

“We'll get you another, Louis, no bother,” Mike from the feed stall assured.

“Thank you,” Louis smiled, eyeing the phones filming him warily. “Think we’ll just get going before we cause World War Three,” he mused.

“Wait,” Bryan dashed back to his stall while Harry shifted to fetch his abandoned bags, placing them carefully in the back of the truck.

“You okay to drive, Lou?” Harry asked him.

“I’m fine, love,” Louis squeezed his hand.

Harry’s tension eased a little at the contact, their eyes meeting for a meaningful moment.

“Here,” Bryan rushed up to thrust a bunch of sunflowers at Louis.

“For me?” Louis asked bemusedly, flicking his eyes to Harry.

“Well, Harry was telling me—” He paused as Harry stared at him. “Anyway, I figured these flowers kind of suit you, so...”

Louis swallowed, taking the bouquet and smiling shyly, lips pursing as he lifted Harry's hand grasped in his so he could kiss it.

“Really, hun, you're too sweet,” he murmured, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek. “Love you.”

Harry dimpled, shifting his welly-clad-feet impatiently as people started to crowd closer, calling his name.

“We should go,” he whispered, lingering in a lip-to-lip kiss with Louis that was no doubt captured by every avid fan filming them closely.

“Thanks Bryan,” Louis lifted the bouquet in salute. “Mike,” he added with a nod as the other man loaded a replacement sack onto the truck.

“Look after yourselves,” Mike waved them off, Louis putting the truck into gear with Harry's possessive hand curled around his thigh.

//

_Out of Control?_

_Harry Styles, 34, attacked a photographer out of nowhere whilst the man peacefully took photographs of the TV Star browsing the wares on display at Doncaster market._

_Styles was spending quality time with his fiancé, Louis Tomlinson, 36, who met Styles at the start of his career decline. _

_The assault raises questions over Styles' previous clearance on drunk-driving charges, the violent lash-out concerning his devoted fan base._

** _Convince me that this Louis guy is good for Harry? Harry would never have done something like this before they met..._ **

** _Violence is never the answer no matter how much a pap is in your face._ **

** _Harry Styles is cancelled. Unstanning tbh._ **

_We approached Styles’_ _representative for a comment but we were refused a response._

Harry folded up the newspaper and wedged it down the side of the sofa as Louis breezed into the living room at morning break.

“Hey, beautiful,” the smaller man beamed, eyes lingering on Harry’s engagement ring as he pushed back his hair.

“Hey. Want some coffee?” Harry wondered.

He’d spent the morning in the paddock with the ponies and finished examining the llamas with Louis' help before returning to the house to chop up vegetables for dinner.

“Nope, I’m just measuring up,” Louis stated, unwinding a metal tape ruler to check the dimensions of the covet underneath the stairs.

“Oh?” Harry looked over the back of the sofa and then got up, a pair of small grey jersey shorts resting on his hips and barely covering the thick muscle of his thighs.

“I think Tim's hut can come in,” he beamed proudly.

The junior pony was spending his days outside in the paddock, carried inside to be cleaned before being allowed to clop about the house; an environment he was becoming very comfortable in, much to Louis' amusement.

One of the charity's benefactors had dropped in for a surprise visit, Harry serving them tea and his oat and raisin cookies only for Tim to come charging in; still wary of strangers.

Louis would never forget the way Harry had circled Tim in his arms to restrain him, sitting in the lounge pretending to be listening to the visitor while he was silently soothing the small animal.

“I’ll help you,” Harry instantly offered.

//

“Fits perfectly,” Harry grinned at the miniature house now settled under the stairs.

He knelt down to tuck the navy corduroy cushion he’d bought inside, a small hay feeder attached to the wall already by Louis along with stainless steel water and food bowls hung from brackets.

“All he needs is a bell to ring every time he wants something,” Louis mused.

Harry gave him a grateful smile, pulling him into a cuddle that happened to include long, hot kisses.

“Thank you, Lou,” he murmured.

“You’re most welcome, Sunshine.”

“_You’re_ sunshine,” Harry argued.

“Do you want to bring Tim inside?” Louis wondered.

“I think you should do it,” Harry suggested. “He’s beginning to trust you now and you making this house for him and carrying him would reassure him that _you_ want him here, too.”

Louis nodded.

“Slight lie but let’s go for it,” he sniffed.

Tim was backed into the corner of the paddock when Louis approached, a quick scan of the area reassuring Louis that nothing bad had happened and Tim just felt safer there.

He let himself in through the gate and knelt down.

“Coming indoors, Tiny?” Louis invited, patting his thighs.

Tim stared at him.

“Got you a little house and everything,” Louis shared. “Harry’s waiting for us,” he added.

Tim slowly leaned away from the fence.

“Just think, once you're through that door, you only have to come out to go to the toilet and to play,” he soothed. “Pretty envious of you to be honest, buddy...”

Tim began to walk toward him, a cautious trudge.

“Look, I like you okay?” Louis asked. “Maybe even love you,” he huffed. “But you’ve got go admit you were a little crazy at the start. I’m willing to take a risk on you, Tiny. You can thank Harry for that.”

Tim stood in front of him and circled so that his side faced Louis, a position he got himself into when he wanted Harry to lift him up.

Louis curled his arms around him and secured him snugly to his chest, rising to his feet with careful precision.

“Right, off we go,” he nuzzled Tim’s mane before walking down towards the house.

//

“He’s asleep, Lou! He looks so cute! You’ve got to see!”

Louis brought their late-night cocoa in and placed it on the coffee table, ducking to peek into Tim's quarters.

“He likes his cushion, cupcake.”

“He’s so happy now,” Harry teared up.

“I’m glad,” Louis kissed Harry’s temple, helping him up off the floor.

“I’ve planned a surprise for you,” Harry told him when he was upright, eyes bright and smile deep.

“You haven’t,” Louis countered drily, sitting beside Harry on the sofa.

“It’s a day trip, so we can do all the chores before we leave and I’m taking you for lunch and we can be back before it gets dark to do the late feeds,” he promised.

Louis stared at him, touched.

“That’s—thank you, love,” he expressed. “That sounds perfect.”

“Have you ever been to Hornsea?” Harry asked.

Louis smiled.

“When I was little, yeah.”

“We’re going tomorrow. Fish and chip lunch by the sea. No tourists because it’s too cold,” he smiled. “We’ll dress up warm and cuddle.”

“My kind of date,” Louis smirked.

“When we get back, after we’ve put everyone to bed, we can do whatever you like,” his voice lowered in a sexy promise.

“Is it my birthday?” Louis rasped.

“It’s my way of saying thank you,” Harry shared.

“You don't need to, darling,” Louis promised.

“I want to,” Harry kissed him.

“Okay,” Louis nodded, an excited smile burgeoning on his lips.

Harry’s hand squeezed his knee.

“Any ideas what you’re going to do with me?” He wondered.

Louis swallowed, the invitation sounding darkly appealing. To use Harry to his body's content but whatever they got up to, Louis would only be truly satisfied if they _both _wanted it.

“Anything you want to try, babe?” Louis asked back.

Harry dimpled, hand spreading over his thigh.

“Want to do what _you _like,” Harry insisted.

“I like doing what you like,” Louis countered with a smug smile.

Harry huffed and tilted his head to tuck it into Louis' neck as he curled up next to him, long legs draping over his thigh.

“There may be _something _I’d like to do...”

Louis wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“Oh?”

“Mmm,” Harry hummed deeply.

“Going to share that secret, love?” Louis coaxed.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Harry smiled against his jaw, earning a gentle kiss.

Louis gazed into his half-lidded eyes.

“We could get started early, you know...”

Louis kissed him slow, angling their mouths together awkwardly to flick his tongue into Harry’s mouth, his thumb brushing his earring as he cupped his jaw when Harry tilted his head back to receive him.

Harry squirmed to get into a better position to kiss him back, body thrumming warmly as their kiss broke away.

“It’s kinda silly,” Harry breathed.

“Tell me,” Louis begged.

“I...I like being washed,” Harry confessed, biting his lip pensively as he waited for Louis' reaction.

Louis blinked.

“Yeah?” He encouraged softly, Harry’s gaze clinging to his.

Harry nodded, licking his lips.

“We can um...have a shower before bed,” Louis suggested.

“If—o-okay,” Harry mumbled. “Alright.”

Louis shifted, helping Harry to get up off the couch.

//

_Feel good, sweetheart?_

Harry rolled over in bed, Louis' arms looped around his waist despite Harry’s weight no doubt numbing his circulation. His body woke slowly to a dull tingling remnant from the sensations he had enjoyed under Louis' touch.

_Get you nice and clean, hm?_

Harry grinned, fingers digging into his hair. Louis had shampooed it twice and insisted on a layer of conditioner, kissing Harry passionately while he massaged it in, his hand cupping his neck tenderly to support him when he gently tilted Harry's head back to rinse the paste away.

Harry felt dirty and clean simultaneously; his body aching in the best way from Louis' loving.

Louis had put him to bed with soft kisses but Harry had tugged him down onto the mattress, trapping Louis’ body by wrapping his legs around him and it didn’t take much persuasion before they were fucking, Louis turning Harry onto his front and keeping it deep and sweet; Harry happier than he could have imagined being.

He hadn't ever told anyone before, about his _likes. _He’d always worried they’d leak out, somehow, or that his partner would look at him strangely for liking weird things.

Louis had indulged him in the best way possible.

_What about here, love? O-oh, yeah, you're **really** good, aren’t you?_

Harry wanted to hear more of Louis' dirty-talk. He maybe wanted to hear Louis call him _babe _again or _darling _right before he came. He wanted Louis to wash him like that in the shower all the time instead of just last night, pre-emptive to their date and Harry's planned _play _for after.

He wrapped his arms around Louis' shoulders and buried his lips into his hair.

“My Lou,” he murmured; brows creasing in memory of the photographer who had tried to hurt him.

He started planning his disguise for the day to ward the paparazzi off.

//

Louis looked irresistibly cute in a fur hooded jacket and a beanie, something about his petite shape zipped into a fluffy, warm coat stirring something in Harry's belly.

“Hmm,” he leaned down to kiss him, quick, his arm slung around Louis' shoulders.

He’d worn dark blue jeans with smart brown boots and a cream jumper, his own navy beanie disguising his hair and all of his identifying jewellery removed. He’d left his stubble a little long, most people not used to his new look yet and he hoped the quiet seaside village hadn’t been keeping current on his Twitter activity.

“You know, I think we should look for caves,” Harry commented.

Louis snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You just want to make out,” he accused.

Harry smirked, nuzzling his temple.

“Think I do, yeah,” he agreed silkily.

The sand was damp from rain the previous evening, their shoes leaving an imprint which Harry captured on his phone camera along with a selfie.

“You’re going to tweet that, aren’t you?” Louis accused.

Harry merely beamed at him innocently.

“Not without your permission, Lou.”

“Like this morning, you mean?” Louis mock complained. “When you felt it necessary to show everyone my bed head.”

“You looked sexy,” Harry shrugged. “I’d hate to be accused of monopolizing you...”

Louis softened, Harry leading him into the shrouding stone arch of a cave, leaning against him on the wall.

“Guess I can forgive you,” Louis lost his fingers in Harry’s hair, his beanie sliding off and flopping to the sand.

“Good,” Harry kissed him. “Wouldn’t want to be in your bad books...”

“Do you like being punished?” Louis asked him outright.

“Nah,” Harry scrunched up his nose, pressing into Louis more. “Quite like being told I’m _good _though...”

Louis' blood lit up at the reminder of their shower the previous evening, at the time he had been so nervous about getting it right. Harry affirming he enjoyed it had him eager to know what else he could do to make him happy.

“Hm...well you _are_ good, aren't you?” Louis cupped his jaw, stretching into a slow, deep kiss. Harry pressed against him, slotting his thigh between Louis' to grind himself against his hip. He gasped a bit; breaking the kiss long enough for Louis to unbutton his coat and sneak his hands underneath his jumper.

Harry slid his hands down to cup Louis' ass, moaning deeply as he rippled his body to gain friction, Louis sliding his knee up to tuck it snugly between Harry’s legs. Harry made a weak noise and rocked his hips, the new intimacy of their position turning him on.

“Yeah, you're such a good boy,” Louis told him raspily, fingers digging into the back of his hair to pull him down for another kiss that ignited something hot between them as soon as their lips met.

Harry wrapped his arms tight around Louis' waist and pinned him to the wall, Louis' hand boldly cupping the front of Harry's jeans; nestling his burgeoning arousal in his palm. Harry breathed his name against his cheek, sucking in a breath as Louis teased his ridged length with his fingertips, coaxing him to full hardness.

“Yeah,” he panted, pressing himself against Louis’ hand.

Louis thumbed his nipple and kissed him harder, the jut of Harry’s hip angling almost uncomfortably against his own dick but Harry sounded so breathless and beautiful that he didn’t mention it, just grasped his hair and fumbled at finding the fastening of his jeans.

“You and your inhumanly tight jeans,” Louis teased, breath hitching fast.

Harry grinned at him and kissed him again, hands tucked down the back of Louis' jeans to squeeze the bare skin of his backside while Louis fiddled with his jeans stud and zipper.

“You’re so fucking hard, love,” Louis smirked, forcing the zip down harshly.

“Not for much longer,” he murmured; blinking lazily as Louis wrapped his hand around him. He gently rolled his hips.

Louis began to stroke, nice and slow, his palm warm where the sea-air gusted in cold whips against their sides but Harry didn’t feel the temperature drop from the scorching heat of Louis' kisses.

He was in the midst of one such kiss when he paused, hips shifting uncertainly as he lost his rhythm.

Louis broke their kiss to look at him.

“You okay, babe?”

Harry nodded with a grim swallow; evidently not _okay. _He’d lost his arousal in a matter of seconds, Louis' hand still tight around him but stilling from his previous frantic strokes.

“Let me,” he managed thickly, taking his length into his own hand and biting his lip as he stroked experimentally.

Louis smiled at him, squeezing his hip and reaching up to kiss his mouth, Harry distracted momentarily into kissing him back until the flaccid weight of his dick couldn’t be ignored any longer.

He huffed, frustrated.

“Gonna blow you, instead,” he mumbled, stepping back to get to his knees.

“Sweetheart, let’s just kiss for a bit, hm?” Louis murmured, pressing a palm over his own dick to disguise his hard-on.

“Lou, I want to,” Harry told him with furrowed brows and a tone that suggested if Louis expressed further concerns then they might end up in an argument.

Louis swallowed, glancing out onto the beach to check for unlikely walkers, the view clear all the way down to the waves. He came with throaty cries of Harry’s name, knees weak from the intensity of his orgasm.

//

“Time for lunch,” Harry spoke slowly, chin dipped to his chest as he tried to fix his somewhat broken zipper.

Louis smirked at his sandy knees, watching Harry tug a bandana from his coat pocket to wrap around his head and tame his wind-blown hair back.

“How do I look?” He asked.

Louis decided not to mention the suspicious stain on the thigh of his blue jeans, reaching for his hand to twine their fingers with a proud smile.

“Like an angel,” Louis professed, pulling him close to kiss him lovingly.

Harry hummed and kissed him back, dimple forming deeply in his cheek.

“My pretty Lou,” he smiled smugly and Louis rolled his eyes and led the way out of the cave.

//

Harry had chosen a beautiful, rustic seafood restaurant for lunch, booking the entire upper floor usually reserved for parties and once they were safely shown the selection of tables, Harry tugged him toward a little wooden booth in the corner that faced out of the wide windows onto the beach-front but afforded them much-needed privacy in their own cosy haven.

If a stray patron or curious fan should sneak up the stairs then the room would appear empty apart from Harry’s deep voice and Louis’ breathy laughter.

They ate crab cakes and fish goujons with dips and thick battered cod wedged between perfect sandwich bread; chunky chips and spicy shrimp skewers on the side. Harry opted for a portion of scampi before Louis requested the dessert menu, feeding Harry sweet treats with kisses in between.

Harry paid the bill smoothly with polite appreciation and a healthy tip, leaving him and Louis the luxury of relocating to the novel hammock-style swinging seat that was perched by the window among deck-chairs and wind-breakers used as privacy dividers within the bar area. It was casual and comfortable as they settled together, Harry quickly positioning himself to balance the hammock whilst Louis crawled carefully into place on top of him.

“Let’s not get too comfy, here,” he suggested as he settled his back against Harry's torso.

Harry locked his arms around his chest.

“Can we get one of these for back home?” Harry asked as he tucked his ankle over Louis'.

Louis smiled, hugging Harry’s arm that tightened across his chest, his bicep flexing underneath his jumper.

“You think of the farm as home, now?” He questioned.

Harry hummed, thighs hugging Louis'.

“Think I have since I moved in,” he mused.

“You didn’t kiss me for two weeks,” Louis teased. “Thought I’d fucked things up.”

Harry huffed, his breath a warm puff against Louis' hair. He flattened his hand against Louis' sternum and rubbed gently.

“I guess I wasn't sure how it would work with us at first.”

“We did start off as a one-night stand,” Louis mused.

Harry snorted.

“I knew one night with you was never going to be enough.”

“Now you’ve got a whole lifetime,” Louis reminded softly, his fingers automatically drifting to trace Harry’s ring.

“Well, whatever we have of our lives before my Parkinson’s takes over,” he adjusted softly.

“Shh, love,” Louis wriggled to reach enough to kiss his jaw.

“I’m just being realistic,” Harry swallowed, shifting slightly as Louis rolled over in his arms, Harry refastening them around him once he was snugly pressed to his front.

“I appreciate your attempts to scare me off, petal, I really do but there’s only so many ways to tell you that you’re not getting rid of me. I’m actually completely in love with you. I think the papers would even refer to it as _besotted_,” he quoted a phrase that Harry had seen The Daily Mail use in the false article about him having _female_ bed partners.

“Shush,” Harry mumbled, rolling his eyes and tightening his arms, humming as Louis slid a leg between his.

“You wanted to talk about it,” Louis insisted, smirking as he propped on one elbow and thumbed Harry’s cheek. “So, you should know these things. Like how I ripped up that restraining order you filed...”

Harry mock-gasped.

“Lou!”

“I’m your biggest fan,” Louis stated, thumb brushing his bristle and lowering to trace his full lower lip. “Don’t you see? It was my plan all along...to trap you and keep you on my farm where I could put you to work...”

Harry’s hips twisted in arousal, an amused smile curling in the corners of his mouth.

“Put me to work, how?” He asked in a breathy, deep voice, olive eyes darkening.

Louis kissed him, lips gliding slowly together before they parted, the hammock taking up a lazy swing from their movement.

“Oh, that’s right,” Louis' brow quirked as he carried on the game. “I haven’t shown you the sex dungeon yet, have I? Think you’ll have a _grand_ time locked up down there, darling...”

Harry let out a quack of laughter, legs tangling with Louis'.

“Lou?”

“Yes, babe?”

“I feel a bit sick.”

Louis snorted and inelegantly clambered out of the hammock to help Harry up.

“Think it was all the swinging,” Harry told him, rubbing his stomach.

“Absolutely nothing to do with the four courses of fish and million desserts, I’m sure...”

“Let’s not go over that now,” Harry told him. “Think we’ve got time for a quick beach stroll before we head back, don't you?”

Louis looked at him, knowing they’d get recognised and people would ultimately get photographs but they could both leave now, a hidden secret and Harry was here wanting to show Louis off to the world, wanting to advertise their status openly without fear of consequences.

Louis took Harry's hand and nodded, not caring who saw them or what pictures they took. Harry was his sweetheart and right now only his happiness mattered.


	13. Chapter 13

“Nice beach date huh?” Liam asked a few days later as they waited in the drive for the neighbouring farmer to collect Fernando.

Louis had tried to arrange his transport himself, planning to harness him and manhandle him into a carrier but Harry had got wind of the plan from Liam and had refused to allow Louis anywhere near “the bull" as he still referred to him.

The beach pictures had been printed two days after the trip, Harry's new lawyer at least exercising some control over the private content of their date by delaying the release and having the pair of them approve which shots could be used in the article.

Overall it wasn’t a bad piece, depicting the soft romance of the day over sordid claims like usual and Louis wondered if one day Harry might be able to share his health story and bring attention to the sufferers of his condition with the same kind of empathy from the press.

Right now, Louis would be happy to get Fernando off his land so that he could free up the entire field for a herd of Falabella horses. He’d seen a television article on the plight of a group of eight miniature horses who had been bred and subsequently abandoned and who were currently being fostered by a stable in Bradford.

Louis had noticed Harry reading up on the specific horse breed and sourcing written articles on the abandoned horses and their background, strangely silent on the subject in Louis' presence.

“Yeah, it was a good day,” Louis told his friend.

“You looked really happy,” he complimented. “Smitten kittens.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis rolled his eyes. “Did you see those little horses that were on TV the other day?” He asked to change the subject away from himself and how whipped he was for Harry.

“Oh, the Falabellas? Yeah, they were cute,” Liam smiled. “Are we getting them?”

Louis shrugged.

“Kind of thought we could stick them in that field,” he pointed up the hill. “We can open up the fence to scoop around the trees so they get their own little woodland...”

“Have you spoken to the stables fostering them?” Liam asked.

“Not yet,” Louis admitted. “I uh...I’ve seen Harry reading about them but he hasn’t said anything at all to me,” he mused. “I was expecting him to be _begging_ me to take them in.”

“Oh,” Liam said in a really poorly executed way if he planned to be dismissed.

“You know something,” Louis stated.

“No,” Liam answered too quick. “No, I just...I think you should do what your heart tells you,” he cleared his throat. “Like always.”

“But I tried to ask him about it and—”

“Louis?”

“Yeah?”

“Get the horses,” Liam told him in a firm but gentle voice, patting his shoulder as he moved to greet the visiting farmer who pulled into the drive with their carrier towed at the back of their truck.

//

“Okay, be careful...take it slow...” Louis pressed himself into Harry’s left shoulder from behind, arms stretched upwards so that he could flatten his palms over Harry’s eyes.

Harry was mildly clumsy, walking exaggeratedly to pick his feet up to miss clumps of grass in the field or the odd mole-burrow. It didn’t help that he had stubbornly insisted on bringing Tim for the journey.

Louis had given up trying to reason with him for fear of the sun setting before they even got into the yard.

But it was evident the pony, however small, was causing balance issues for Harry in his blindness.

Louis focused on getting all three of them to the required gate, shuffling up to press his chest to Harry’s back when they paused.

“Alright, open your eyes,” Louis lifted his hands away and braced Harry’s hips with them.

He tiptoed to hook his chin over Harry’s shoulder to peek at his expression. Harry’s face was unreadable, lips set inexpressively together and lashes sweeping with slow blinks over his eyes.

Louis looked into the field to make sure the horses were still in eyesight and hadn’t crowded underneath the trees in the lowering light.

They were there, five of the eight, huddled together and watching out for danger. Louis shifted, fussing Tim's mane.

“I can hold this lump if you want to go and say hi,” he offered gently.

Harry’s arm curled Tim more tightly to his body.

“No, it's okay,” he mumbled.

Louis bit his lip, stomach dropping like lead toward the ground. Liam had convinced him that Harry wanted him to rescue the horses. His odd behaviour had guaranteed something was going on that Louis didn’t know about but he began to doubt what that _something _was.

“Harry? Is everything okay?”

Harry turned and looked at him, brows furrowing slightly.

“Hm?”

Louis gently grasped his arm.

“You good?” He checked.

“I think so,” he blinked, clearing the haze of confusion. “You bought the horses,” he said next, face brightening.

Louis let out a subtle breath of relief.

“Yeah, do you like them?”

Harry’s lips tugged into a smile then, boyish and endeared.

“Louis, they're so cute! Look at that little cream one, his mane is over his eyes, he can’t even see where he’s going!” He snorted, pointing out the animal to Louis.

“The brown and white one is super friendly,” Louis encouraged. “The others might need a little whispering from our resident charmer.”

“Hey,” Harry pouted, leaning down to kiss him. “You weren’t complaining when you were fucking me in your bed...”

“Shh,” Louis gasped, cupping his hands over Tim's ears. “Not in front of the kids.”

“You weren’t that bothered when we _did it_ in front of Tim the other day, either,” he smirked.

Louis' skin burned in memory of Harry fucking him from behind bent over the kitchen counter. The sex was well worth the resulting shame of turning around afterwards to find Tim stood there staring at them accusingly. If Louis had any idea that a miniature pony would stunt his sex life then he would never have built him a fucking house in the first place.

“Alright, _Angel_, let’s just focus on the here and now, shall we,” he fidgeted.

“Feeling hot, Lou?” Harry grinned knowingly.

Louis rolled his eyes and plucked Tim from his arms.

“Go and play with the horses,” he instructed. “But don’t let Tim smell them on you or he'll get jealous.”

“They’ll be his new best friends in no time,” Harry assured, squeezing Louis' bum fondly before heading in to the enclosure.

//

“You didn’t have to get the horses, Lou.”

It was late, Tim was in his house and Harry’s head was cushioned in Louis' lap while Louis gently kneaded his scalp and let his fingertips slide along the details of his hip tattoos.

“Are you upset?” Louis wondered.

“No,” he promised, swallowing. “I’m happy. Really happy.”

“You don’t look it, babe,” Louis mused, resting his palm gently on Harry’s chest. Harry tugged at his arm until he had both his arms folded around it.

“You’ve done so much for me. I didn’t want to ask you for anything else. And you kept talking about them and I knew if I gave a hint then you’d take them. But this is your farm, Lou. You've worked so hard to build it into what it is. You were fond of the bull and it wasn’t my place to tell you to transfer him.”

Louis looked down with a gentle sigh.

“I think the day you refused to let me enter his enclosure anymore sort of sealed his fate, really...”

Harry's nostrils flared, hoop shifting delicately.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Fuck, is it too late to get him back?”

Louis smiled, calming him with fingers combing through his silky hair in his lap.

“I don’t want him back, Harry. I want _you_ to feel equal, here. I _want_ you to make decisions for us both. You were right, Fernando was a bit much for us to control but I was too soft to let him go. He took up a lot of space and now we have a meadow of beautiful little horses that make you smile.”

Harry squirmed; head tilting back to jut his jaw, his hoop earring brushing Louis' thumb.

“I want to make _you _smile, too,” he stated in a soft, deep voice.

“You already do that, love. Mooching about the house in your boxers is a big part of that, but—"

Harry giggled, twisting to tickle him.

“I’m going to start wearing clothes,” he sniffed as his tickle attack died out.

“Pretty sure the village are stunned at my batting average,” Louis teased. “You answered the door to Wilma in your yellow shorts and she asked me how much I was paying to have an Adonis see to my every need...”

“She did not!” Harry snorted, grinning at the memory of the milk-lady gaping at his near-naked body for three full minutes before actually leaving him with their milk delivery.

“She absolutely did!” Louis retaliated.

“So, I’m reduced to being nothing more than your playboy?” he pouted, shifting to get up, waiting for his body to catch up with the movement before carefully straddling Louis' lap.

Louis’ eyes dipped to his chest, hands curving around his hips.

“Well you _are _very pretty,” he murmured.

“You’re the pretty one, Lou,” Harry reminded. “Pretty sure if _you _mooch about in boxers then they’ll think you’re my playboy, too.”

“I’ll be whatever you want,” Louis smiled.

“My husband,” Harry opted softly.

“In progress,” Louis confirmed, excitement fluttering through him at the thought.

Harry kissed him to seal the thought, warm, bare body pressing close for contact.

“Thank you for getting the horses,” he whispered.

Louis let out a huff of air, both of them knowing that there wasn’t an alternative. Even without Harry’s research Louis would have still known in his heart that Harry wanted them. Liam’s words came back to haunt him.

“I love you,” Louis told him, kissing him again.

“Love you, too,” Harry said back between kisses.

//

“So, who’s planning your wedding?” Niall poked Harry in the ribs while they set up for their casual gig at the pub, the bar more crowded with fans wanting to glimpse Harry playing guitar.

He hadn’t sung before, had harmonised on backing vocals and concentrated on getting his strumming right, but tonight he was singing Louis' song for the first time live.

Mark and James were tucked in a corner by the set-up, waiting patiently with their phones. Harry had already greeted them and quietly asked if it was okay if he didn’t take pictures today. His tiredness was evident in his droopy eye and the sag of his shoulders but he was determined to sing, at least once, to Louis directly.

If tonight went well then he might even work up the courage to do it more often at home, lips curving as he thought of all the songs he could write to compliment his partner.

“Nobody,” Harry replied to Niall's burning question. “We haven’t set a date, yet...”

“Right, well Tommo needs to pull his finger out,” Niall demanded. “I want to take this band on tour and we need to work around your wedding since clearly _I’m_ planning it.”

Harry snorted, fiddling with his earring.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I’ll find out,” Niall promised, turning away from Harry to search for Louis in the crowd. “Tommo!” He called, gesturing Louis over.

Louis immediately appeared by Harry’s side, hand sliding over his spine.

“Alright, lads?” He asked.

“Niall wants to know when we’re getting married,” Harry relayed. “Apparently he’s planning the event.”

“Planning it around the _tour_,” Niall gestured to the band.

“Not sure Harry's up to a tour,” Louis mused. “When's the best time for a wedding, love?”

Harry frowned, olive eyes flicking to him.

“Why wouldn’t I be up to a tour?” He asked.

Louis smiled bemusedly.

“You wanted to work part-time, didn’t you?” He checked. “Not sure how travelling around the country would fit in with the farm and your health...”

“It wouldn’t be-" Niall began, only for Harry to interrupt.

“You haven't even _asked_,” Harry argued, voice strengthening. “You shouldn't just _assume _I can’t do it...”

Louis stared at him, flicking Niall a worried look.

“Love, I’m going off what _you _said,” he soothed, keen to disarm Harry’s anger as quickly as possible. “If you want to go on tour, then do it. I’ll support you, you know that.”

“The _important_ thing is-" Niall began again.

“The important thing is that _Louis _realises I’m capable of doing a tour,” Harry argued. “As well as fulfilling my responsibility at the farm. My _health _is a long-term situation that I’ll deal with when I need to,” he clipped.

Louis stepped back, rocking back on his heels with a sigh.

“You’ll deal with it,” he echoed. “Right. Thought it was a _we _now.”

“Not when you start limiting me without discussing it with me first!”

Harry's tense words were loud enough to quiet the loud chatter in the room, Louis glancing around the room and receiving curious looks in return.

“Think it’s best I leave you to it,” he murmured. “Have a good session,” he told the pair.

He paused, waiting for Harry to look at him so he could kiss his cheek but Harry deliberately turned away to speak with the drummer leaving Louis biting his lip and turning away with a sigh.

//

“Better not plan the wedding yet,” Harry mumbled to Niall as they started warming up.

Niall's eyes darted into the crowd to check that Louis wasn’t within listening distance, a worried frown pinching his face.

“Think you were a bit hard on the Tommo,” he broached carefully.

Harry glared at him, back straightening and shoulders pulling back.

“Is that so?”

Niall shuffled up close, squeezing his elbow.

“He was only worried about you, Haz.”

“Right,” Harry nodded, smiling wanly. “So, you think it’s okay to make decisions for me?” He challenged. “Like you deciding when I should get married, I suppose? Everybody else gets to control _my _life because you’ve all deemed me incapable...”

Niall swallowed, stepping back as Harry yanked his arm from his touch.

“I was joking, Haz. I wasn’t even thinking of a proper tour, just a gig in Brighton and London, maybe. You can get married whenever you fucking like.”

Harry lifted his guitar off his shoulder and shoved it roughly to the floor.

“How about I don't get married at all?!” He yelled, the instrument clattering noisily as the sound system screeched with feedback, silence stilling the room as Harry clambered over the sound equipment to storm out of the pub.

All eyes turned towards Louis who had taken respite at the bar, his heart jumping out of his chest as the door slammed behind Harry’s exit.

//

_The Wedding’s Off!_

_Whirlwind Romance is Over for troubled star and abusive ex!_

Louis tried to stomach the coffee Niall served him, his phone cradled in his hand to check on updates from Liam about his animals, his friend generously offering to take over for the morning while Louis considered his next move.

He’d been tempted to follow Harry home but actually, if Harry was _that_ angry; angry enough to throw away his meaningful proposal, then he didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of it. And his phone hadn’t received any messages from Harry’s number in the hours he stayed away.

Louis achingly understood his fear and frustration but there was a limit and he was at that limit. He was deeply hurt by Harry’s words, now printed over the front of every newspaper and speculated heavily about by their fans on Twitter.

** _Told you Louis was abusive _ **

** _Why did Harry just break it off like that?_ **

** _Better together or apart?_ **

Louis began to wonder.

“He’s got a fiery temper that Harold,” Niall soothed him with a shoulder squeeze. “You love that about him, right?”

Louis swallowed down the thickness in his throat, dipping his gaze to hide the wetness of his tears.

“Of course,” he whispered.

“He didn’t mean any of it,” Niall assured.

“Best not to assume,” Louis rasped drily.

“Tommo...”

Louis forced a grimace onto his lips hoping it would pass for a smile.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with him,” Louis argued. “And he’s just—announced to the world that he’s changed his mind!”

“He hasn’t changed his mind. He’s just scared Louis. Surely you can see that.”

“It’s not like we found out yesterday, Niall. He’s had a few weeks to come to terms with it. I admit my wording wasn’t ideal but the way he reacted yesterday was completely unreasonable. He was spoiling for a fight.”

“Yeah, okay,” Niall nodded, sipping his own drink. “I agree with ya. But if you think that he’s gonna come to terms with this in a matter of weeks then you should probably have a rethink.”

Louis winced, his stomach twisting.

“Lou, it might take the rest of his life to come to terms with it. And even when he does, he might have to do it over and over again.”

“He can’t just call quits on us every time he feels like it!” Louis defended, lifting his gaze to Niall’s and letting his tears fall. “That shit hurts, Ni!”

“I told ya,” Niall soothed. “I agree with ya. He shouldn’t have called off the wedding.”

“I rang Andrew last night and told him some story about being stuck in Scotland and Harry wasn’t answering the house phone and I asked him to let me know if Harry was safe.” He explained of the neighbouring farmer. “Harry didn’t even call to check if I was okay,” Louis whispered. “I didn’t go home and he doesn’t even _care_.”

“Actually, he does, mate,” Niall fidgeted awkwardly.

“What?”

“I messaged to tell him he was being a dickhead and that I wasn’t letting you go back there,” he added.

Louis shook his head, body aching, heart thudding painfully in his chest.

“Doesn’t sound like he was that bothered to me.”

“Fine, here,” Niall navigated his menu and thrust his phone towards Louis.

Louis glanced at it and then back at Niall. Niall waggled it.

“Take it before you lose the chance,” he warned.

Louis took the phone and swallowed, eyes scanning across the screen.

9.14pm Harry: Has Louis left yet?

9.32pm Harry: He’s not home.

9.40pm Harry: Niall, did he leave the pub, yet? Was he driving?

9.47pm Harry: I’m going to walk up the road in case he had an accident.

9.48pm Niall: You’re being a dickhead. Tommo's staying with me.

9.50pm Harry: What do you mean he’s staying with you?

9.51pm Niall: I’m not letting him near ya when you’re being like this. I might let him come back tomorrow if you’ve sorted your mood out then.

Louis looked up from the phone, heart breaking. Harry had expected him to go back, had worried about him not arriving home safely. Despite their fight and his reticence to contact Louis directly, he hadn’t just gone to bed without knowing that Louis was in some way okay. His chest began to loosen a little.

“You blamed yourself,” Louis frowned. “Why?”

“Because the mind he’s in he'd probably use it to reinforce his idiotic idea that he wants out,” Niall mused.

Louis took a breath, stomach churning.

“What if he really does want out?”

Niall stood up to squeeze his arm.

“You’re going to have to learn to ignore him, Tommo.”

“I’ve been ignoring him for the last six months,” Louis countered. “I’ve refused to be pushed away. But this is a bit more than just being afraid. He's broken our _engagement_.” He emphasised.

“Pretty sure in the light of day he’s regretting his words.”

“Words like that can’t just be taken back, Niall,” Louis murmured. “They _mean_ something.”

“That’s what you need to go and tell him,” Niall took their cups to the sink to rinse them out.

“You’re right,” Louis nodded, gathering courage to stand up, hugging Niall before he fetched his truck to drive home.

//

The entrance to the drive was under siege from paparazzi when Louis pulled in, bypassing the mail collection in favour of getting to the house before his truck got damaged by over-zealous fans.

Heavy clunks sounded as objects bounced off his rear window, his heart racing wildly in his chest at the attack, a glance in his mirror identifying full water bottles as the projectiles.

He spoke to Liam first, telling him to take care when leaving and then he was striding toward the house; determined to face whatever lay on the other side of the door.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry hadn’t gone to bed. He'd sat at the kitchen table, pouring mug after mug of coffee and twitching his socked feet irritably as he replayed every second of the night over and over in his head until he felt sick with worry.

Louis hadn’t come home. Eventually Niall had confirmed his fear and then the dread began to settle in his stomach. He’d finally pushed Louis away hard enough to stop him coming back. And he wasn’t exactly sure _why_ he had done it.

He felt shaky with nerves, the caffeine worsening the tremor that had started in his hand around daybreak; utter panic filling his chest as Liam arrived to carry out the morning chores with Louis nowhere in sight.

Finally, Harry heard his truck pull up. He waited, patiently, for him to come inside.

“Oh,” Louis startled, apparently not expecting him to be located in the kitchen.

“Hi,” he greeted, not managing a smile. His eyes filled with regretful tears. “You came home.”

“Yeah,” Louis swallowed, closing the back door behind him. “Have you been sitting there long?”

“All night,” Harry admitted. “Didn’t feel right going to bed without you.”

Louis shifted on his feet, pocketing his car keys and sliding off his jacket.

“Should have just grabbed Tim,” Louis attempted lightly. “He makes a good cuddle buddy.”

Harry blinked.

“I was hoping you’d come back,” he admitted.

“Right,” Louis mused.

“Niall told me he stopped you.”

“Niall lied,” Louis stated, brows lifting. “I don’t want to lie to you, Harry. I’m sorry that you’re hurting but you have to know that I didn’t come back because _I_ was hurt, too.”

“I know,” Harry lamented in a thick voice.

“Do you?” Louis challenged softly, rounding the table. “I mean I know you talk about me opting out of _this _but you’ve never had to hear me say I _want _out, have you? Do you have any idea what that feels like, Harry?”

Harry blinked, lashes clumped damply together as he sniffed, blotting his nose with a balled-up tissue.

“No,” he conceded with a swallow.

“No, that’s right,” Louis' voice was deceptively smooth. “Because I never wanted you to doubt me, Harry. I never wanted you to doubt _us. _I believed you when you said you loved me. I trusted you when you said _yes _to marrying me. And apparently I was wrong,” he posed.

“Y-you weren’t wrong,” Harry stammered, standing up. “I _do_ love you. I _do_ want to marry you. More than anything.”

“I can’t just forget what you said,” Louis accused as Harry twisted to face him, body twitching.

“I know,” Harry winced, tears trickling down his cheeks. “I know I’ve hurt you.”

“Everybody heard, Harry,” he pointed out. “_Everybody. _The press is all over it and I woke up to the front-page news that my fiancé broke our engagement off. For one _stupid_ comment. Which fuck, yeah, I _am_ sorry I said. I thought I was protecting you. If I'd known it was _that _easy to throw my proposal away then I wouldn’t have fucking done it!”

Harry flinched at the sharp, loud tone of Louis' voice, his hands instinctively reaching out.

“I didn’t mean to,” he begged, sniffing hard. “I haven’t thrown anything away. Your proposal meant the world to me, Lou! I know how hard it was for you to go down on one knee on that carpet and expose yourself like that and you're _right_, I’ve treated you badly. I lost sight of everything in that moment because my head was spinning with the knowledge that you were _right. _I _can’t _manage a tour. I woke up yesterday feeling twice my age and I was struggling to even play with the band but I wanted to stay to sing _your_ song. I wanted to dedicate it to _you_.”

“Then what the fuck went wrong?” Louis asked. “If I upset you then you need to _tell_ me,” he insisted. “You can’t just pack it all in and expect me to come chasing after you!”

“You’re right,” his voice wobbled with emotion, lowering his hands when Louis didn’t move to grasp them. “I’m sorry.”

“You called the engagement off, Harry,” Louis murmured, Harry opening his mouth to argue and then closing it again when he saw that Louis had more to say. “You can’t reverse time and take that away.”

Harry stared at him.

“You don’t want to marry me anymore?” He whispered, face paling.

“It’s _you_ that decided that you don’t want to marry _me_.” Louis asserted.

“But I just told you it was a mistake,” he pleaded. “I didn’t mean it, Lou. Please,” he whispered, pinching his ring as though Louis might actually rip it off his finger.

Louis' gaze settled on his hand, lips twisting.

“My promise hasn't changed. But you’ve broken my trust.”

“Th-then how do I get it back?” Harry asked desperately; moving forward to grasp Louis' elbows. “Tell me what to do, Lou.”

Louis sighed, flicking his eyes away.

“You need to get some sleep,” he said, removing Harry’s hands from his arms. “We'll talk later.”

Harry stared at him, waiting for him to say more.

“Okay,” he nodded when Louis didn’t speak again, turning to head to his own room.

//

“Here he is!” Mark greeted cheerily as Harry slipped into the kitchen in a pair of Louis' sweatpants and his hoodie, his thick socks still snugly warming his feet despite the heating.

“Oh. Hello,” he saluted awkwardly. “Is Louis out in the fields already?”

“Those new horses require a bit of taming,” Mark shared, grinding pepper into the frying pan he was commandeering.

“That was supposed to be _my_ job,” Harry mumbled.

Mark turned away from the stove slightly.

“So, the papers were true for once,” he deduced. “You had a fight?”

“It was my fault,” Harry quickly assigned blame. “I had a weird glitch and freaked out over nothing and then I called the engagement off.”

“Oh,” Mark pursed his lips to accentuate his expression. Not as judgemental as Harry expected. “He takes that stuff quite seriously.”

“So I learned,” Harry commented. “Not that he _shouldn't_,” he added in Louis' defence.

Mark turned off the pan and dished up the contents, carrying it to Harry on a plate and sitting beside him.

“He lost his Mum at a young age,” Mark began.

“Fifteen, right?” Harry checked, thanking Mark for his breakfast.

“She gave him her engagement ring, the one you’re wearing...I’m going to let him have the wedding ring, too,” he added with a soft smile. “You’ll have a matching set.”

“Not sure I can salvage this enough to convince him to actually marry me now,” Harry sighed.

“That ring means an awful lot to him,” Mark shared. “His mother taught him all the good stuff you see in him. That ring is an extension of the man he is. He doesn’t make promises lightly.”

“Neither do I,” Harry promised. “I never meant to break it off.”

“You didn’t mean it when you said it, right?” Mark guessed.

Harry nodded, painfully grimacing.

“_He’s_ a man of his word.” Mark added.

“Then _I_ need to say the words,” Harry swallowed, catching on slowly. “I need to prove that my promise means just as much...”

Mark patted his shoulder.

“Give it some time. He’ll come around. When he sees you're not going anywhere,” he added.

Harry heaved another heavy sigh out of his lungs.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again,” he worried. “I wasn’t exactly fully in control when my temper flared.”

“Then you need to be honest, Harry. You need to lay it all out on the table if you want this to work.”

“I do,” he promised.

Mark got up to make tea.

“He called me down just to take care of you, you know.”

“What?” Harry looked up from his food.

“I mean, he told me some crap about needing a hand around the house but...”

Harry smiled.

“Thank you for coming,” he appreciated.

“You’re welcome, pet,” he beamed as he delivered the tea, Harry smirking at the Tomlinson tradition of using endearments in place of names.

//

Harry started working with the Falabella horses in the late morning.

They were quick to approach him but their trust was weaker when he rose to his full height or moved between them; the small animals scampering away and one brown coloured one mule-kicking him in the thigh which resulted in him tumbling to the ground and laying there for a quiet moment until the pain subsided.

“Harry? Hazza, love?” Louis’ frantic voice accompanied his quickly advancing body, restoring some of Harry’s faith that he cared, still.

“Yeah?” He lifted his head, smiling grimly.

“What happened, hun? Did you fall?”

Harry’s eyes flicked to him

“Actually, I was kicked down.”

Louis was stroking his hair, eyes searching his body for injury.

“Thought you were the pony whisperer,” Louis murmured quietly.

“Turns out horses don’t feel the same,” He derided.

Louis' blue eyes fastened to his.

“Where does it hurt?”

Harry grimaced, pointing to his thigh.

“It’s not bleeding,” he breathed out in relief. “Got a muddy hoof-mark on your nice jeans, though...”

“Not my favourite pair,” Harry assured.

“No?” Louis asked distractedly as he checked Harry’s pulse.

“No,” Harry swallowed. “My favourites are the blue ones.”

“Oh, they were very pretty,” Louis murmured , his hands now cupping Harry's neck and the arm opposite to his body. “Sit up for me?”

He counted to three and helped Harry up. Harry hissed as his knee bent naturally to steady himself.

“Right, I want you to wait here while I fetch some ice and a bandage,” Louis told him while he stripped off his jacket and settled it around Harry’s shoulders.

“I’ll try to fight the urge to sprint down the field!” Harry called after him jokingly, tugging the jacket closer as his shoulders curled inwards.

//

“Jesus,” Louis eyed the purpling bruise on Harry's bare thigh with a concerned gaze.

Harry swallowed, propped up in Louis' bed in his boxers and socks and Louis' hoodie that he refused to give up.

“I’m okay,” he lied, thigh throbbing.

“I’ll get some painkillers,” Louis said. “Do you feel sick?”

Harry shook his head, hands strangely steady as he pushed back his hair.

A few minutes after Louis left, the soft padding of Evie’s paws sounded on the carpet, the timid black and white cat jumping up onto the bed with a meow. Harry happily cradled her, the more distinct clunk of miniature hooves clambering up the stairs and angling into the room, Tim appearing about two seconds before Louis.

“He insisted on seeing you,” Louis huffed, carrying in a tray with soup and bread on it alongside a fruit juice drink and painkillers as promised.

“Lou, you didn’t have to make lunch,” Harry complained.

“You shouldn't take pills on an empty stomach,” Louis chided softly.

“There’s something about the Tomlinson family wanting to feed me,” he added suspiciously.

“It’s because of those llama legs of yours. If we thicken them up you might have more chance of staying upright.”

Harry snorted and settled the tray on his lap.

“I'm not _that _bad.”

“You kind of are, love,” Louis teased, and the warm affection in his words had Harry’s tummy curling hopefully in response.

He ate his soup and watched Louis bandage his thigh with padding to cushion his bruise, helping him wriggle into a pair of joggers once he’d taken his medication.

“Right, I’m just going to finish up outside,” Louis lifted the tray away, kissing Harry’s temple. “Tim’s here to watch over you.”

Harry hummed, letting the heavy exhaustion of his body tug him back into the covers, the gentle weight of the duvet settling over him as Louis dragged it up his body, taking the tray with him as he left the room.

//

Harry woke up being spooned, Louis' smaller body curved around his from behind, his arm loosely slung over his side.

He shifted and carefully clasped his hand, cuddling Louis' arm to his chest the way he liked to, settling with a heartfelt sigh.

“Love you,” he pressed a kiss to his wrist.

//

Two weeks later, life had returned to something resembling normal.

Harry was kissing Louis again and more importantly, _Louis was kissing him back_. They hadn’t exactly _fucked _since the fight, but every time they got anywhere near to it, Louis looked at his thigh; tracing his healing bruise with a gentle thumb and dropping a tender kiss to it before sucking him off or wanking him until he came over Louis' belly. Sometimes his chest or his ass, Harry had become an expert in coming without penetration.

The horses were responding well to his training, following him around in a little swarm as he taught them commands and Louis started naming them after the seven dwarves, with the brown horse who violated Harry assigned as ‘the Witch’. Harry secretly befriended the angry colt and named him Florian.

It was one morning when his bruise was no longer visible that he conspired with Liam to finish the chores early, heading to the barn with specific intent.

He herded the sheep into one end of the building, using the timber structure to his advantage to section off their sleeping space so he could set the scene for the evening.

Warm, thick tartan blankets were flapped out over bales of straw to soften the prickly ends. Battery operated lanterns were placed strategically from the entrance door to behind a cove, an intimate corner arranged with throw cushions and electric candles, a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice.

Harry hung up some bunting and threaded a few flowers into the straw to soften the room and when it was perfect- apart from the lingering animal odour- he left to dash inside to shower and change.

He fastened the rose navel bar into his belly button, selecting his cross earring and a hoop for his nose, his outfit a simple pair of worn grey jeans and a soft grey t-shirt that he had seen Louis wearing around the house. It was too cold for bare feet but he braved it anyway, carrying a rolled-up rug from the bedroom to lay on the cement floor of the barn.

His guitar was clutched in his other hand, eyes bright as Liam crossed his path to the barn.

“Tell Lou I need help in the barn?” He checked.

Liam smirked.

“He’s just heading in for his shower, I'll let him know to pop in, after.”

Harry smiled and let himself into the barn, setting himself on the blanketed bale patiently.

//

Louis opened the barn door, a curious frown furrowing his brows as he slipped inside.

“Darling? Liam said you needed-" He paused, two things quickly becoming evident.

The sheep weren’t in the barn. Before he could panic about that fact, the muted bleating noises reassured him that they had been safely segregated. The second thing that hit him was the husky, deep voice singing softly along to an acoustic guitar.

_Easy come, easy go  
That's just how I live  
Oh take, take, take it all but I never give  
Should've known I was trouble from the first kiss  
Had my eyes wide open_

He ventured into the empty room, lamps leading a path to a dark corner where the guitar playing was coming from, along with Harry’s voice.

_Why were they open  
Gave me all you had and I tossed it in the trash  
I tossed it in the trash, I did  
To give me all your love is all I ever ask  
'Cause what you don't understand is_

“Hazza?” He crept towards the cosy seating area, eyes blinking wide open to take in the decorations, soft synthetic flame light dotted about among the bigger lamps and pretty rustic bunting hung from the rafters.

His eyes fastened on the bucket nestling champagne.

_I'd catch a grenade for ya  
Throw my head on a blade for ya I'd jump in front of a train for ya  
You know I'd do anything for ya  
Oh whoa oh  
I would go through all this pain  
Take a bullet straight through my brain  
Yes I would die for you babe  
And you would do the same  
Yeah,yeah_

He waited for Harry to look up.

“Are we celebrating?” He asked.

Harry smiled and nodded, patting the space beside him gesturing for Louis to take a seat. Louis slipped his shoes and jacket off so that his red jumper, socks and jeans fit more with Harry's laid-back vibe.

“What’s the occasion?” Louis asked as Harry handed him two mugs and went about undoing the champagne.

“Let’s get this poured out, shall we?” Harry licked his upper lip as Louis watched him carefully to gauge his mood.

Harry meticulously poured the drink, brows furrowing slightly as he leaned forward to peer into the mugs.

“Uh, just checking I poured a full cup,” he smiled wanly as Louis waited for a toast.

If he had guessed correctly then Harry had landed a new television deal. He looked incredibly uncomfortable which was as endearing as it was painful, Louis wanting to reassure him he’d support him in whatever his aspirations involved.

A toast didn’t come before Harry was knocking back a large mouthful of the liquid.

“So. Tonight is for you,” Harry beamed innocently. “You know...to say thank you for being, well _you_ and—"

Louis sipped his drink to catch up to Harry, who was gulping down the remainder of his wine. Harry looked at him expectantly.

“Love you, babe,” Louis assured as he relaxed a bit in his seat.

“It’s also to apologise,” Harry blurted, tilting his mug to and fro by the handle. “For...well, _everything_,” he murmured. “I know I said I didn’t mean what I said but I get it now. Words hurt. They also can’t be taken back. And I owe it to you to explain that part of how I reacted that night is something I can’t reason.”

“It’s alright,” Louis hushed, cupping his knee. “We’re going to learn lots of new things about each other and your temper is just another thing to add to the list...”

“I think my condition might cause a few more bumps on the road,” Harry swallowed, breath hitching as Louis tipped his cup back to finish his drink.

“So, what're we celebrating?” He asked again as Harry poured the next measure of alcohol, his bright smile fading as he glanced at the bottle and swilled it.

“Still loads left,” he murmured.

“Have you got good news?” Louis coaxed, sensing Harry's nerves.

“The good news is that my bruise is completely healed,” Harry announced, lifting his cup for a toast.

“Okay,” Louis mused, humouring him. “Glad you’re feeling better, love.”

“I mean, you took great care of me, Lou,” Harry praised. “You always do! Even when I don’t know I need looking after, there you are...”

“Is that a good thing?” Louis checked.

“Yes!” Harry hurried to stress. “Really good.”

Louis nodded and continued to sip his wine.

“Was there any dinner with this?” He enquired. “Or like...an actual _announcement_?”

“This is taking so long,” he muttered. “_Why’s it taking so long?_” He cleared his throat when Louis looked a bit bewildered at his muttering. “How about I play another song?”

Louis smiled at him bemusedly.

“Sure.”

Harry picked up his guitar, gaze dipping with Louis' hands as they lowered his mug to dangle it between his thighs. He let out a tiny sigh and forced a smile.

“#It's a beautiful night,” he began with a smug smile. “We're looking for something dumb to do...”

Louis just smiled back serenely, eyes closing at the sound of Harry's voice.  
“#Hey baby,I think I wanna marry you...#"

Louis smirked, eyes popping open.

“Cute song,” he remarked, the irony not lost on him.

_I think I wanna marry you. _

Harry laughed drily, the sound dying in his throat as he grabbed Louis' cup to toss the remaining liquid away, only to refill it until it overflowed, Louis gasping and darting his socks out of harm's way, the tell-tale clatter of an object falling from the bottle and sinking to the bottom of his cup.

He frowned a bit, peering into the wine-filled mug to identify it, a circular metallic band settled at the bottom of his drink.

He dared to peek at Harry who was glaring at the bottle accusingly.

“Harry?”

Harry snapped his gaze to him and his whole face softened into boyish dimples.

“Lou.”

Harry's badly-hidden hiccup was almost comical.

“Oh god,” Louis swallowed, the pit of his stomach clawing.

Harry put the bottle to one side and slid down to his knees, propping one up.

“Lou. I love you. You know that I love you but I was a dickhead,” he claimed, hand clutching his heart. “And I know I don’t deserve you— I said that, didn’t I? But fuck it if I don’t hope you’ll give me another chance anyway,” he begged.

“Harry...” Louis stared at him, song words sticking in his brain in a loop as Harry began singing them again.

“#Is it the look in your eyes,  
Or is it this dancing juice?  
Who cares baby,  
I think I wanna marry you...#”

“Think?” Louis asked, tears flooding his eyes.

Harry swallowed.

“Know,” he stated.

“So, this isn’t to celebrate a new television deal?” He dashed his tears away while Harry scoffed quietly to himself, still perched on one knee.

“Louis William _Darling_ Tomlinson,” he broached. “I want forever with you. Will you let me have it?”

Louis nodded, whispering ‘Yes,” as he reached down to slide his arms around Harry’s shoulders, Harry grumbling about his joints and shifting to sit beside Louis to hug him instead.

It was easier to kiss him from there, easier to pin his weight under Harry’s body and show him with his mouth exactly what his acceptance meant. Harry had never fucked in a barn before and it seemed inevitable with Louis but he imagined it would be in the summer after playful days chasing each other around the orchard.

The cold chill of the winter meant they were overlapping their naked bodies with the blankets, hot skin colliding and creating enough of a spark to keep them warm until they came; both together, bodies in sync for once.

“You haven’t looked at your ring,” Harry accused, reaching down to slosh the wine out of the mug so that he could pinch the band between his thumb and finger.

Louis accepted the thick, gold rose band that matched Harry’s delicate design, the metal burnished around the middle and a nice solid, heavy weight.

“Do you like it?” Harry swallowed, nostrils flaring. “They said it’s one of the most hard-wearing designs they had. I figured with you working outside most of the day and working with your hands...”

“It’s perfect,” Louis smiled. “I like simple,” he promised.

Harry slipped it on after sucking it clean, earning a giggle from Louis.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have plied you with wine,” Harry curled the blankets around them as they sagged away, revealing their bare skin to the cool air.

“Why’s that?” Louis beamed.

“Well if you’re drunk then you might regret your answer tomorrow,” he reasoned, a bit slurred himself.

“No regrets,” he promised, sliding his arms around Harry to kiss him and subtly roll him onto his back

“Oh, yeah?” Harry's eyes sparkled as Louis nudged between his thighs to kiss him more deeply, small body pressed against his.

“Yeah,” Louis murmured, leaning down to kiss him some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song credits- Bruno Mars


	15. Epilogue

“Hey, easy there Timmy!” Harry jogged after the tiny pony as he raced forward; his harness secure in Harry’s hand but the small animal’s brute strength still enough to jerk him along when he made a break for it.

A round of delighted giggles broke out from behind him, Harry twisting to grin at the four children watching him chase Tim around the paddock.

“Hey!” He called. “What’s so funny?!”

“Timmy’s pulling you along!” Three-year-old Polly pointed with another giggle.

“Yeah, _Tiny_ thinks he’s funny like that,” Harry muttered; digging his heels into the soft grass to earn enough leverage to reign him back gently.

Tim twisted; flicking his mane with a tempestuous snort.

“Hey,” Harry soothed; keeping a gentle but firm tautness to the harness reigns. “Aren’t we friends anymore?”

“Harry, look at me and Jennifer!” Scott, a four-year-old boy boasted.

Harry glanced over his shoulder; distracted by Tim’s tantrum. Jennifer was nuzzling Scott affectionately; her condition much improved since Harry had started taking her to a pet pool to swim. He unclipped his walkie-talkie from his jeans belt and pressed the radio connection.

“Lone Eagle to Base. Need a little help up here in the paddock,” he said.

“Base received.” Liam’s scratchy voice came through the device. “Hedgehog is on his way.”

Harry let out a relieved breath; thighs aching with the force of holding Tim steady.

“Guess who’s coming up to watch you guys race the ponies?” Harry asked his small class of four.

“Louis!” They chorused happily; cheering loudly enough to have Tim pulling away from them and tightening Harry’s biceps to keep him from cantering wildly off and setting off the other ponies.

“Did I hear my name?” Louis strode up the grass and swiftly entered the paddock, high-fiving all the kids before approaching Harry. “Look at you, you’re all doing so well!” He beamed.

Harry smiled softly as he watched Jane; a particularly shy girl in the group, stare at Louis with heart-eyes. He knew exactly how she felt.

“Hey, love,” Louis cupped Harry’s elbow and looked right into his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Think Tim’s having a moment,” Harry grimaced. “I didn’t want to turn my back on the others in case he kicks up a fuss…”

“Alright,” Louis squeezed his arm gently; trailing his fingers down to his wrist. “I’ll take Tim?”

“Actually, is it okay if I talk to him?” Harry asked. “I think he’s a little jealous of the new friends we’ve made…”

“Oh,” Louis nodded, blue eyes shrewdly keeping tabs on the kids while they spoke. He flicked his fringe from his face. “You better do your sexy whispering thing then and try and sweeten him up.”

Harry smirked; eyes sparkling as he gazed at Louis warmly.

“Can I try it on you later?” He bargained.

“I’m already sweet, love,” Louis winked.

Harry smiled and carefully let up the tension in the harness to follow Tim’s trajectory towards the boundary fence; letting him trot along the fence-line and crowd himself into the corner. Harry leisurely sat in the daisies; folding his legs. He rubbed his aching arms; taking a few reassuring breaths before checking back on Louis who had quickly started some kind of slalom competition for the young riders.

“Tim,” Harry began, watching him chew stubbornly at a knoll of grass. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

Tim stared at him, chewing.

“Come on, buddy. We’ve been through this, remember? I know you want to be friends with them and you just find it hard at first to be nice. But I have faith in you. I know that once you let them get to know you, they’ll love you just as much as I do.”

A snort, more chewing.

“I can’t let you down there if you’re going to get angry, Timmy,” Harry frowned sadly. “Maybe it’s too soon, hey love? Maybe we can try again with the adult class?”

Tim hoofed at the grass, stepping away from the fence slightly; gaze shifting from Harry to the source of happy, bright and sometimes squealing laughter.

“Is it too loud?” Harry worried. “Does it remind you too much of being hurt?”

He swallowed, biting his lip and tipping his chin down.

“I’m sorry, love,” he apologised genuinely. “Let me take you back inside? Evie will want to see you.”

Tim ventured a bit closer; pausing before steadily walking up to where Harry was sat and positioning himself with his side to Harry so Harry could reach forward and wrap his arms around him. Harry did so with a quiet sigh; settling his cheek gently against Tim’s neck.

He shifted after a moment to get up slowly; waiting for his body to catch up with his mind; steadying his legs before reaching down for Tim but the little horse scampered out of his reach.

“Hey, no playing,” Harry smirked. “Come on, let’s go in, now,” he coaxed, twisting to follow Tim as he again trotted just quick enough to evade Harry’s fingers.

“Tim!” He laughed; winding the reigns up in one fist; looping it around his wrist to reel him in.

He paused; glancing to where the pony was looking. Right at Jane who was standing quietly apart from the rest of the group, apparently waiting for Tim to be walked down the paddock.

“Hey, Jane,” Harry waved.

“Is Tim okay?” Jane asked, gazing at him fondly.

Harry smiled and wrangled Tim between his legs; carefully lifting him up.

“He’s fine, he’s just a little cross sometimes,” Harry explained. “He likes being on his own.”

Tim settled in his arms; staring back at the little girl looking at him; his mane falling in a fringe over his eyes.

“Can I pet him?” She asked.

Harry looked at the pony.

“Tim? You gonna behave?” He murmured. “I know we have liability insurance but I’d prefer it if we didn’t have to use it…”

Tim merely sat patiently in his arms.

“Oh right, you’re a new horse now you’ve got attention, hm?” He teased, loping closer to Jane and then getting to one knee before settling on both; Tim restrained in both arms.

“Jane, would you like to come over and touch his mane?” Harry invited.

Jane nodded and approached shyly, holding out her palm for Tim to sniff. Tim snorted into it in a silly playful way that Harry knelt there awed to watch. Was this a love-match or was he imagining it?

The little girl carefully placed a hand on the horse’s hair and scrunched it in her palm.

“Does he bite?” She wondered.

“No, he just kicks now and then,” Harry mused. “But I’ve got him tight, don’t worry.”

Jane frowned a bit, tilting her head to peer into Tim’s face; gently pushing back his horsey fringe to see him properly.

“You’re not really cross are you, Mister?” She soothed. “You just wanted to play.”

Tim wriggled a bit and Harry tightened his hold.

“I think you can put him down on the ground now,” Jane told him, meeting his gaze with her innocent hazel eyes.

Harry didn’t doubt her instincts; keeping a firm hold on Tim’s reigns.

“Carefully,” Harry put a hand out to protect her as he settled Tim’s hooves to the grass.

Tim clomped a little, peering at Jane expectantly.

“Come here,” Harry guided her closer; cupping her hand and bringing it up to his nose. “He likes it when you stroke him there,” he smiled.

Jane stroked him perfectly; her bright eyes shining as she giggled; the sound not stirring an oddly still Tim.

“He’s so small,” Jane awed. “Like me.”

“He’s a lot like you,” Harry promised.

“He’s so cute,” Jane fawned as Tim stepped into her touch; nuzzling her body with a gentility Harry didn’t expect to see from the miniature horse.

“You can give him a proper cuddle if you like,” Harry encouraged. “I’ll make sure he won’t knock you down…”

“He wouldn’t,” Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and clung on. “He’s a nice little horsey.”

“Who knew?” Louis cut in acerbically; winking at Harry. “Been a terror since he got here, that one.”

Harry chuckled, looking up at him with a knowing smirk.

“Seems he’s found a friend,” Harry offered.

“Brilliant,” Louis smiled. “Jane, why don’t you talk to your father about taking him home?” Louis suggested jokingly. “He’s house-trained and everything.”

Jane seemed to understand the joke despite her young age and her learning difficulties.

“Harry needs him more than me,” she stated, turning to give Harry the same hug around his neck that she had given Tim. “Make sure he gets his carrot later,” she said before she turned and walked down towards the gate where the kid’s parents had started to arrive.

Louis waved as Jane’s mother picked her up with an emotional swoop.

“Wow,” Louis huffed; shaking his head slightly.

A sniffle brought his gaze down to the grass where Harry was on his knees; wiping tears off his face while Tim tried to nuzzle him for comfort.

“Love, what’s wrong?” Louis beseeched. “You stuck?”

Harry shook his head; Louis kneeling to cuddle him; squeezing Tim into a group hug.

“I just-it’s so…”

Louis smiled, kissing his temple.

“Yeah. Yeah, it really is.”

Harry took a deep breath and shifted.

“I should get up before I really do get stuck,” he mused.

Louis stood up first, helping him up with a hand and taking Tim’s reigns to walk him back to the house.

“It was a great idea of yours to have the pony club,” Louis commended.

“It’s because of you it happened,” Harry replied, fingers twining with Louis’ as they walked.

“You made it special though, Hazza,” Louis squeezed his hand. “Look how happy those kids are.”

Harry smiled, waving off the last car as it left the drive.

“Let’s not forget your achievements either, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry smiled; nuzzling his ear.

“Hmm?”

“Getting a guest-feature spot on _Sweet Creatures_ with my Dad,” he smirked.

“Think there was a little favouritism in that choice,” Louis rolled his eyes and huffed his fringe out of his eye.

“No, you earned that spot,” Harry promised. “The studio doesn’t just let any idiot on the show.”

“They did now,” Louis grinned; jumping up to kiss Harry’s cheek.

Harry let go of Tim’s reins to wrap Louis in his arms; holding him up so that Louis was the same height as him as they kissed; tired warmth aching their muscles.

“Think that sweet-talking might have to wait until morning,” Harry lamented as Louis pulled away.

Louis beamed; placed gently to the ground with a bum-squeeze.

“Morning sex is my favourite,” he assured.

“All sex is your favourite,” Harry accused.

“Not true,” Louis shot back; grasping his hand once more. “I like cuddling equally as much.”

Harry pursed his lips, eyes narrowing in assessment.

“That’s true, you do,” he conceded; his matching diamond ear stud and nose-stud sparkling along with his eyes.

Louis had bought him the luxurious matching pair as a one-year anniversary present and Harry had bought him a set of soft knitted jumpers in six different colours.

“What’s your favourite?” Louis asked, brow arched curiously as they came to the back door, Tim waiting impatiently to be let inside. “We really must get a door for him,” Louis commented distractedly.

“My favourite is you,” Harry slid his arms back around Louis’ waist once the back door was closed and they were safely inside where he could kiss him slowly and lean against the counter to help his ailing body.

“You want a massage, don’t you?” Louis decided, sceptically.

Harry gaped, mock affronted.

“No! You _are_ my favourite!” He argued.

“You take Tim and I’ll run you a bath?” Louis suggested.

“Thank you,” Harry kissed him; not letting him go until he’d stolen three -or four- more tender kisses.

//

“Friends and family of Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles, you have been invited here to share today; the most special day in Louis’ and Harry’s lives,” the minister welcomed the seated crowd; wooden chairs dressed in lilac cotton covers and embroidered with purple flowers like the ones Harry was clutching in a small bouquet.

He had felt weird at first, walking down the ‘aisle’ with flowers, but the tones of mauve blooms were abundant on the farm in the Spring and Louis always liked to pick a few for him and bring them inside after the initial flush of fan-purchased flowers steadily dried up.

He and Louis had scoped out the farm together for the best location for the wedding; choosing the woods where the Falabella’s roamed; moving the horses to the stables for a few days while they got everything ready.

The chairs were laid out in two blocks; a small pagoda raised and decorated for the minister and the grooms to stand upon while Liam, Niall, Mark and Des were standing just outside the sheltered frame as they gazed at each other.

Louis wore a beautiful mauve toned, grey check suit with a lavender tie in the same shade as Harry’s solid-colour suit; his shirt a more relaxed pussy-bow tied neckline than Louis’ smart pale grey starched collar; but Louis thought he looked beautiful in mauve and nothing else mattered.

His hair was steadily growing and he had put a delicate lilac diamante stud in his nose along with an exquisite, tiny jewelled purple butterfly dangling from his ear. Louis had watched him walk through the seats towards him, overwhelmed with love and pride for his partner. He couldn’t remember what life had been like without Harry by his side but he was sure it was only half of what he felt now.

He had always been sceptical about those who described their partners as their ‘other half’ but he understood now. It made sense in a way that it only could if you had met your soulmate.

And beautiful, shaky Harry was his.

“Louis, would you like to say a few words?” The minister prompted, most of his sermon blanked by Louis as he stared at his fiancé. _Soon to be husband._

Louis looked over his shoulder at Liam who fished into his pocket for a velvet jewellery bag. Louis took it with a small smile, nerves suddenly striking him.

“Love you,” Harry murmured encouragingly.

Louis shot him a wild smile.

“Harry...look, I’m not a poet but I’m pretty sure that there are no words that truly describe how I feel for you, or how beautiful you are to me. You’re incomparable, you see. One of a kind; unique and so, so incredibly precious. I love you. My animals love you. My family and friends love you,” He huffed as people chuckled softly. “I bought you this ring to symbolise our bond and I wondered if you would like to wear it,” he asked softly, struggling with the pouch thanks to his jumpy fingers.

Finally, he showed Harry the ring; a huge heart shaped diamond set in the middle of two butterflies decorated with smaller diamonds, which made up part of the band. The band was rose gold to match his engagement ring.

“You-" Harry gasped, lips falling open and eyes darting up. “How did you know?”

Louis smirked.

“You _have_ got a massive one painted on your tummy Hazza,” he teased, muttering under his breath how he was going to kiss it all over later

Harry waited patiently for Louis to slide his ring on, biting his lip and dimpling at the sight of it.

“Harry, would you like to say a few words?” The minister turned to him slightly.

“More than a few,” he murmured, gazing at Louis and dipping his eyes to take a breath to steady himself. “Lou. You are the love of my life,” Harry smiled, small and earnest. “I came to Doncaster to find peace and anonymity and that plan was shot to pieces the day I stepped foot on the farm but it was exactly what I needed, I just didn’t know it. You-" he cleared his throat as his voice cracked, sniffing a bit and taking another breath as Louis stepped forward to hold his hands; disregarding the protocol. “You’ve stood by me through some really difficult news and your promise today means everything to me. You are my world, Lou. Can I keep you?” He smirked, brow raising as he pulled a ring from his top jacket pocket.

Louis smiled at the ring, and the man holding it.

“You can,” he offered his hand for Harry to push on the ring.

“You have both spoken of your love and your commitment to uphold the values of a lifelong bond, I can now confirm you are husband and husband,” the minister beamed.

“That’s it?” Louis stared at him. “I swear there was more in the rehearsal...”

“Shh,” Harry snorted.

“You may kiss each other if you wish,” the minister added.

“Of course I’m going to kiss him,” Louis scoffed, stepping forward to slide an arm around Harry’s waist, twisting to lower him in a Princess swoop, cupping the back of his neck as he pressed a firm owning kiss on his lips. Harry curled his fingers around his lapel and pulled him in.

“Bad idea, Chief,” Niall tutted. “Once they start, they don’t really stop...”

The minister chuckled.

“We just need to sign the register and then you can enjoy your afternoon...”

//

They had planned an early ceremony to accommodate their friends with children and older people who didn’t want to dance late into the night. Harry found himself tiring naturally earlier than he might have done before the car accident so by finishing early at the reception he might have a little energy left for kissing Louis if nothing more.

The summer house was decorated stunningly with purple ribbons weaved into a volume of flowers, picnic-style benches set up and a barbeque already on the go with plenty of salad options.

They tried to keep it as relaxed as possible without conceding on the meaning of the day.

“Sons!” Mark slung an arm around each of their shoulders as they made it down the hill.

“Hi, _Dad_,” Harry smiled, earning a grin from his father-in-law.

“I skipped from Mr. Tomlinson to _Dad_,” he awed.

Harry shrugged shyly, the older man separating him from Louis for long enough to give him a good cuddle.

“You’re my boy too now, Harry,” Mark told him.

“I feel like I always have been,” Harry mused, peering over Mark’s shoulder to see Louis in a similar hug with his own dad.

“Well, you certainly feel like part of the family.”

“I’m glad,” he nodded.

“Don’t you worry about the devil pony while you’re on honeymoon,” Mark added. “I’ll take good care of him.”

Tim had been securely restrained in the barn until the festivities died down a bit, his mane plaited with flowers in celebration.

“I’m going to miss them all while we're away,” he pouted.

“Pretty sure that Costa Rica will distract you nicely,” he winked.

Harry smiled, looking forward to discovering new cultures with Louis.

“Pretty sure it will.”

“Don’t come back with any funny looking frogs,” Mark added with a smirk.

“Who are you calling a funny looking frog?” Louis asked his Dad as he walked over to the pair. “Harry’s my husband now, I won’t stand for such blasphemy...”

Harry swung around to blink at him.

“He wasn’t talking about me, Lou,” he mused.

“Oh,” Louis smiled wanly. “Never mind, forget I spoke...”

“You think I look like a frog?” Harry frowned.

“No,” Louis denied outrageously. “No!” He added more emphatically.

Harry looked at him; unimpressed while Mark chuckled at the exchange.

“Go and have your first dance,” he encouraged. “Everyone is waiting.”

“Not sure I want to dance with him now,” Harry sulked. “He thinks I look like a frog…”

“Darling,” Louis smiled winningly; taking Harry’s hands to thread their fingers together. “I love you more than anything. You’re _my_ funny looking frog, okay?”

Harry couldn’t help his huff of laughter, rolling his eyes and giving in to Louis’ smile.

“Alright. Since people are _waiting_,” he conceded, following Louis down into the thrall.

//

_Oh, thinkin' about our younger years  
There was only you and me  
We were young and wild and free  
Now nothin' can take you away from me  
We've been down that road before  
But that's over now  
You keep me comin' back for more  
  
Baby, you're all that I want  
When you're lyin' here in my arms  
I'm findin' it hard to believe  
We're in Heaven  
And love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're in Heaven_

_  
_“You okay, Lou?” Harry mumbled against his hair; his husband curled against his chest as they enjoyed a moment of closeness.

Some couples orchestrated elaborate dance routines and arranged for their wedding party to put on choreographed performances but Louis and Harry had both agreed they just wanted to be together and enjoy the feeling of being committed for life.

“Mmm,” Louis let go of his hand to cuddle in closer; both arms wrapping around Harry’s waist.

Harry was so often the one pulled into Louis’ arms; enveloped by his strength; he loved the feeling of being the one protecting Louis for once; being the strong one and holding him in his arms because he wanted to feel small.

“You sure?”

“I love you,” Louis leaned back enough to lift his chin to smile at him tiredly.

“Today’s been a long day, hm?” Harry smoothed a hand over his back as their eyes met; bodies swaying; feet barely shifting with their vague slow dancing.

“How are you holding up?” Louis asked.

Harry felt tears prick his eyes at Louis’ question. He had remembered to _ask_.

“I’m getting tired,” he admitted with a swallow. “But I’d like to see people before I call it a night.”

“Love; we’re calling it a night _together_,” Louis promised. “I’m not letting you go to bed alone.”

Harry nodded; pulling Louis in tighter; settling his chin among his silky hair.

“Love you,” he whispered.

_Oh, once in your life you find someone  
Who will turn your world around  
Bring you up when you're feelin' down  
Yeah, nothin' could change what you mean to me  
Oh, there's lots that I could say  
But just hold me now  
Cause our love will light the way_

_And baby you're all that I want  
When you're lyin' here in my arms  
I'm finding it hard to believe  
We're in Heaven  
Yeah, love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're in Heaven, yeah  
  
_

“Maybe you can sit in the wicker chair and I’ll parade guests around to see you,” Louis smirked; pressing a kiss to Harry’s lavender shirt.

Harry kissed his hair.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “I like the sound of that.”

“Plus, once people start leaving, Tim will want to come and say hi,” Louis mused.

Harry smiled, hand sliding up Louis’ back to cup his neck; leaning back to gaze into his pretty eyes.

“I get to call you my husband,” he marvelled.

Louis smirked; lifting a hand to tuck back Harry’s longer hair.

“So do I,” he whispered; tiptoeing to kiss him.

Harry slipped his free hand down to curve it around Louis’ behind; earning a roar of approval from their friends and laughter among applause. Harry was sure they’d get a hundred pictures of him groping Louis’ ass and he was all for it, really.

Just as he took control of the kiss and licked into Louis’ mouth; Louis squeezed both his ass-cheeks; smiling into the kiss and laughing as they broke apart; both of them licking their lips and grinning at each other in naughty amusement.

“Some kind of wedding album we’ll have for the first dance;” Louis winked; flexing his fingers while Harry's hand stayed firmly rounded on his bum.

“My kind of slow dance,” Harry professed; kissing him softly once more.

“Here’s to a lifetime of bum-groping,” Louis winked.

Harry chuckled softly; kissing him again.

“Here’s to a life of love.”

“That too,” Louis promised, reaching up for yet another kiss; gentle, slow and achingly tender.

“I love you.”

“You said that,” Harry dimpled.

Louis thumbed at his delicate earring.

“It’s true,” he stated.

“I love you, too,” Harry murmured back.

_  
I've been waitin' for so long  
For somethin' to arrive  
For love to come along  
Now our dreams are comin' true  
Through the good times and the bad  
Yeah, I'll be standin' there by you  
  
And baby you're all that I want  
When you're lyin' here in my arms  
I'm findin' it hard to believe  
We're in Heaven  
And love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're in Heaven, Heaven_

//

“Right you two, enough of the manhandling in front of the children, time to cut your cake,” Niall broke them apart with a smirk.

Louis lifted a brow.

“We’re not manhandling each other,” he denied.

“No, you’re participating in foreplay on the dancefloor while everyone films it for their perverted little home porn movies,” Niall quipped.

Harry laughed at that; wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulders to nestle him close.

“It’s just a little fondling,” he teased; pressing his lips together as his eyes lit up.

“Well, it’s time to take a break from dry fucking to come cut your cake,” Niall mused. “Some of us are hungry.”

Harry smiled; letting Louis shift in his arms so that his front was pressed to Louis’ back and then he walked over with him towards the cake table as a clingy symbiont. Eventually he was forced to let go with a wistful sigh.

The cutting of the cake was suitably momentous; Harry’s smile as bright as the love in his eyes and Louis’ affection warm on his face as he gazed at his husband. It was Louis who dashed a bit of icing onto Harry’s cheek and Harry who grabbed a clump of sponge to retaliate; laughter and gentle wrestling melting into hot, cake-smeared kisses. Niall gave up on shifting them away; cutting the rest of the cake for them and dutifully plating it up; handing it out with dry mutterings and rolls of his eyes.

“Do they ever stop?” Des asked Mark as Harry and Louis continued to kiss without coming up for air.

“Not sure I need to know,” Mark replied with a wink.

Des laughed and the afternoon rolled into evening; Harry coming to sit in Louis’ lap where Louis could loop his arms around his waist and gently stroke his hair when he started to flag. The idea was genius though because everyone came to them and Harry didn’t have to exhaust himself by walking around; pushing himself like Louis knew he would have.

It was Liam who led Tim out of the barn; in all his festive glory; his fringe swept up and held with a butterfly clip. The pony cantered straight for Harry, Harry laughing and lifting him up into Louis’ lap as he reached them.

“Hey, small guy getting crushed here!” Louis complained.

Harry pouted.

“But Lou, he looks so darling,” he smiled.

Tim _did_ look darling.

“I suppose,” Louis stared at the animal as he stared back. “Good to see you, Timothy.”

The tiny horse nuzzled into his chest.

“He thinks I’m his mattress now,” Louis lamented. “Fame went to his head after your tweet.”

“Fully deserved,” Harry beamed.

He had set up a Twitter account for Tim in his own right and he had more followers than Harry.

“I don’t know about that,” Louis scoffed. “His fans don’t get their toes broken by his mean little hooves, do they?”

“Your toe wasn’t broken, Lou, it was badly bruised,” Harry soothed, kissing his temple.

“Pretty sure it was broken and they just lied because they were secret fans of Tim,” Louis countered.

Harry smiled and settled his hand along Louis’ jaw, tilting it up to kiss him. It was a tired; lazy kiss but it was meaningful all the same. Louis sighed out a bit as he relaxed into it; supporting Harry’s lower back with his palm and subtly coaxing him closer; their mouths deepened into the union; exhaustion giving way to heady; weak desire.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled against his mouth.

“So you’ve said a few times,” Louis pecked has swollen lips; eyes sparkling.

“Can I say it again?” Harry’s dimples lengthened in his cheeks; his face now beard-free but sometimes he let his stubble grow just to burn Louis’ thighs and belly with the bristle.

“As much as you like,” Louis promised. “And I’ll always say it back. I love you, Harry.”

Harry dipped into another lengthy kiss; disturbed by Tim shifting in their laps.

He looked around; a small girl standing cautiously before them.

“Jane,” He beamed. “Hey, you made it!”

Jane’s mother, Cindy smiled apologetically.

“Sorry we’re so late. We were actually driving back from London,” she explained. “We had a medical appointment there.”

“It’s okay,” Harry moved carefully; supported by Louis’ hands as he stood up. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“It’s just a quick visit,” Cindy added as Harry looked down on Jane and Tim in the midst of a hug.

“That’s okay,” he promised. “I’m glad you came. _We’re_ glad you came,” he added, glancing back to Louis.

“Congratulations by the way!” Cindy reached up to hug him and Louis got up to hug her as well.

“Thank you,” Louis smiled. “Take some cake with you,” he insisted. “We’ve got loads left.”

“They just break my heart,” Cindy whispered as Jane talked quietly to the miniature pony; a couple of feet away.

“He’s certainly different with her,” Harry observed. “I was worried at first that he might be too rough but he just _changes, _it’s incredible.”

“I’m going to get some of that cake while they have a chat,” Cindy said. “Have a lovely honeymoon, won’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Louis mused. “We deserve it,” he added, slipping his hand into Harry’s; the taller man watching Jane and Tim with a doting smile that twisted into something wistful.

“Part of me wishes we could have that, you know?” He whispered, voice rough with emotion.

Louis swallowed, eyes going from Jane to Harry.

“We could, love. If you want to, we’ll find a way, I promise.”

Harry’s face creased; his previous giddy joy sullied by the tug of reality reminding him of his restrictions; taunting him about the life he _could_ have had if he wasn’t ill. If he wasn’t encumbered with a condition that would steadily get worse until he was imprisoned in his own inability.

“Isn’t that selfish, though?” His broken eyes shifted to Louis, wet with sorrow.

Louis moved in front of him; bringing their joined hands to his chest and sliding his free arm around Harry’s waist.

“Wanting to give love to someone else is never selfish,” Louis reasoned. “Lots of people have children when they have a range of disabilities because they refuse to see that as a barrier. And it’s okay that you do see your Parkinson’s that way; because you’re the one who has to live with the changes it causes in your body and mind…but I want you to know that if this is something you want to think about then we’ll look at it. _Properly_. See what help we might need and that.”

Harry frowned; breath caught in his lungs. It wasn’t _impossible_. They had family and friends who would support them and look at the Pony Club; Harry managed to take care of those children with support from Louis. There was no reason why they couldn’t at least _think_ about it. His heart ached for it; for their own little boy or girl.

“It’s not hereditary either,” Louis squeezed his hand.

Harry’s eyes shifted to him; tears trickling down his cheeks that Louis brushed gently away with his thumb and the backs of his fingers; not letting go of his hand which was settled against Louis’ chest.

“Can we look into it?” He asked; throat tight.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded.

“I don’t want to get too into the idea if-if you know, it just feels like it’s too much to place a child in that situation,” he sucked in a breath.

“I understand, love,” Louis leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“But if we scope it out, at least we’ve tried, right?”

“That’s right,” Louis hummed soothingly.

“Lou?”

“Yes, love?”

Harry’s lips twitched and he sniffed; eyes re-filling with tears.

“I love you,” he smiled and it was painful; his cheeks ached sharply with the motion.

Louis huffed; a soft smile gracing his own lips.

“I love you, too.”

//

Bringing Layla and David home for the first time after they were born was smoother than Louis expected. They had prepared themselves as much as possible for the adaption of their house and lives to accommodate two newborn babies; but most of what was to come would be a learning curve.

The twins were still too tiny to determine whose genes they had developed within the womb. Louis was hoping that at least one; if not both of the babies had curly hair and green eyes. He smiled to himself as he remembered Harry’s tears when they were born; his own emotions running deep as they held their children for the first time.

Cassie was an amazing surrogate; had involved them seamlessly in the pregnancy; the only issues arising when they discovered that two of the implanted eggs had taken; the petite woman forced to rest much more than she had anticipated. She had spent a lot of that time at the farm; with Harry, who liked to pamper her when he wasn’t working.

It was Louis who had nested.

He had gone into the pregnancy assuming his partner would be the ‘female’ element of the impending birth but Louis had taken on the farm house with a determined streak that nobody could break. The twins needed their own bedrooms; the loft could be converted and separated and a nursery could be built from the spare room.

Once he had carried out the structural building with help from Des; he and Mark had painted and decorated and filled the spaces with soft furnishings. Something Louis had added to daily; things that Harry found with soft smiles and tearful sniffles. The matching rainbow-coloured stuffed bears sat in wicker white seats in the nursery had been one such occurrence.

And the adaption of Tim’s hut to allow him more privacy if crying babies ever got too much.

Harry considered himself a very lucky man.

That first night they had settled the twins into a shaky routine that they tried to maintain around the working of a busy farm but life soon got hectic and Louis hired Kacey.

Kacey was wonder woman, he was sure.

Not only did she effortlessly help out with the growing babies but she did it without encroaching on Louis and Harry’s roles as their parents. When Harry needed assistance; she would often help him too and Louis began to see her more as part of the family than just a nanny.

Kacey didn’t live with them and two years after the twins were born; he offered to build her a room. After much persuasion from Harry she had agreed and Kacey had moved in permanently and that was that.

It was one afternoon when the twins were two that Louis came in from an afternoon grooming the llamas to find Harry laid on the sofa snoozing; their boy and girl curled over his body; fast asleep. Tim was stood at the foot of the sofa watching them indignantly; peering at Louis with his fringe in his eye.

“What’s this, Timothy?” Louis smiled; moving into the room with a quiet voice and step; crouching to pick up the pony to cuddle him. It was important he didn’t feel left out.

Tim had coped, overall, amazingly well with the new additions to the house. At first he hadn’t liked the loud noise and had trotted about, distressed when they were both up at midnight nursing; but once he had met Layla and David properly; he had quickly fallen in love with them and became somewhat of a protective force for the pair; stomping if one of the twins fell over or wandered off when Louis’ back was turned or Harry was busy with the other.

Tim nuzzled into Louis’ chest; watching the three on the sofa with the same relaxed affection.

“Our whole lives, right there, Timmy,” Louis whispered; tearing up.

“Lou?” Harry jerked with a start; eyes sleepy as they opened.

“Hey, love,” Louis smiled from his position knelt by the couch.

“Oh, you’re down there,” Harry yawned; nestling his head back against the cushion, then lifting it again to ask, “Why are you down there?”

“Tim wanted a cuddle,” Louis smiled; smushing his cheek against Tim’s mane.

“He had a cuddle earlier, the little liar,” Harry told him in a slow, deep voice; fidgeting slightly under the weight of two toddlers and then settling again once his right arm was freed. He curled it over David, his left arm trapped by Layla’s weight.

“Ah, he’s allowed a few,” Louis mused. “Poor chap getting terrorised by two-year-olds all day.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry mumbled.

“You okay?” Louis checked.

Harry pouted, eyes closed again now.

“I want cuddles with you, too.”

Louis’ smile grew.

“Why didn’t you say?”

“Because I’m covered in children,” Harry lamented.

“I’ll carry them up to their room,” Louis suggested, getting up to set Tim in his hut.

The twins were still sharing the nursery until they were old enough and big enough to fit in their own beds. Louis carefully carried them up individually and kissed them gently; switching the monitor on before creeping back down the stairs to where Harry had curled on his side on the sofa. Louis wedged himself into the gap; tugging the fleece throw over their bodies and reaching for the two-way monitor to turn it on.

Harry nestled into him a little; Louis pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You sure you’re okay?” He worried.

“Hmm,” Harry lifted his chin; eyes slitting open a little; enough to see where he needed to place his mouth to kiss Louis. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Louis breathed; combing through his hair and thumbing his ear-hoop. “You should have called me up to the house when Kacey clocked off,” he mused.

Harry smiled tiredly.

“I like spending time with them,” he assured. “Just feel really tired now.”

“Have a sleep, then,” Louis shifted to cuddle Harry into his chest; winding protective arms around his body and placing a kiss among his wild, fluffy curls.

Although the twins were identical; both of the embryos that had attached in the womb from the batch of eight; had contained Harry’s DNA. David had inherited his curls and green eyes and Layla had the dark tone of his hair without the bounce, and her eyes were hazel; like her donor mother. Louis loved them both and one day they would explain it to them but right now all he wanted was for Harry to rest; to let him take the weight of their parental responsibilities for a while.

“Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we have another one?”

“Another baby?” Louis checked; bemused as his mind had been on the same topic.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure it won’t be too much for you, love?”

“Want a baby with blue eyes,” he mumbled and Louis smiled; squeezing him tight.

“Yeah, that would be amazing,” he agreed.

“Maybe next year,” he suggested. “I’m okay, really,” he promised.

“Of course you are,” Louis teased. “You haven’t fallen over in the yard for at least two days…”

“Hey, you put that wooden beam there,” Harry lifted his head to accuse Louis sleepily; green eyes hazy and his face disgruntled.

“There was no beam, love, you tripped over your own feet.”

“S’not true.” Harry muttered.

Louis snorted; fingering his hair. Harry’s eyes crossed as he gazed at his lips. He shifted himself up a notch; arms cuddled into his chest with the throw as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss to Louis’ mouth.

“It’s been a while,” he broached; brows furrowing.

Louis cupped his cheek.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t—you know, felt up to it.”

“That’s not something you ever need to apologise for, Hazza,” Louis promised softly.

“Are you—are you, uh…did you want to think about someone else?”

“Fuck, no,” Louis spat; voice quiet but adamant.

“I mean just to-to get off, you know,” he beseeched.

“No,” Louis told him sternly, kissing his mouth. “I want you.”

“But I’m not giving you _that_,” Harry twisted awkwardly with a huff.

“I told you,” Louis stroked his hair; palm flat against the back of his head. “It’s okay.”

Harry twisted his lips; settling back against his chest with a sigh.

“If you ever wanted somebody else, I would understand.”

“That’s a little bit hurtful, to be honest but I’m going to pretend you didn’t say it,” Louis squeezed him tight in his arms again.

Harry took a breath and let it out.

“Thank you,” his voice was husky and broke; a sniffle sounding shortly after.

“Oh, love…” Louis smoothed a hand over his back tenderly.

“I’m sorry, Louis. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Harry. Shh, now, darling. Go back to sleep.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” He sniffed.

“Unless the twins need me or Tim goes on a rampage then yeah, I will,” he promised.

Harry huffed a bit at the mention of the pony.

“Think Evie joined the herd of sheep in the barn you know…we’re not her family anymore.”

Louis relaxed a bit at the change of topic; Harry's feet curling cutely against his ankles.

“Yeah, she’s made friends with Mary,” Louis mused. “Who would have thought a cat could be friends with a lamb?”

Harry shrugged.

“I mean they’re really cute together.”

“That’s true,” Louis realised. “You should get a picture of them and ask the newspaper to print it. Everybody likes a good a love story.”

“Maybe I’ll take a picture of us, then,” Harry dimpled as he squirmed into Louis’ tight hold a bit more; tucking his legs between Louis.

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Louis kissed his temple. “Best love story of all time.”

“Except when I called off the wedding,” Harry snorted.

Louis tugged a curl very gently; knowing sometimes Harry’s scalp was sensitive with nerve endings because of his Parkinson’s.

“That was pretty shit,” he agreed.

“Mood swing,” Harry mumbled.

“Of course,” Louis missed. “Nothing to do with my overbearing nature.”

“Not overbearing,” Harry pouted, lifting his head again to wriggle to kiss Louis’ jaw. “Protective. I happen to love it.”

“Not that day, you didn’t,” he teased.

“No,” Harry chuckled, kissing his jaw as he looked down. “But we made it.”

“Look how far we’ve come my baby,” Louis smiled winningly.

“That’s so cheesy,” Harry complained with a groan; burying his face in Louis’ neck.

“I like to think of it as romantic,” Louis countered.

“No, it’s just cheesy,” Harry smiled against his throat.

“Huh,” Louis sniffed. “Fine.”

“Hey,” Harry's brows flexed a little. “Still love you, though.”

“Love you too,” Louis winked. “Even though you are half llama, half sloth.”

“Heyyy…”

“And you look like a funny frog…”

Harry bit his lip against the giggle bubbling in his chest, shifting to get awkwardly to his knees where he could steady himself enough to launch a tickle attack; Louis’ thighs hauled around his hips as he pinned him to the couch to grasp the hem of his long-sleeve top and pulled it up to expose his belly.

“Where is it you like getting bristle-burn, again?” Harry asked nobody in particular as Louis attempted to thrash. “Oh, that’s right, it’s here, isn’t it?” He smirked, pursing his lips to angle his chin to a point; circling the sharp, short hair among Louis’ happy trail. “And a little, here, too…” he moved to his belly button; dragging a wide circle around the dip. “Hmm and if I remember rightly…” He peeled the top higher; up to his collarbones and dug his chin into his chest; circling over his nipple.

“Fuck, you’re a menace,” Louis gasped; Harry landing a heavy; solid kiss to his mouth as he lay down against him once more; this time tucked tightly between Louis’ thighs. Harry moaned as his body slowly; but surely, responded to the suggestion.

“We’ve got about half an hour before the twins wake up,” Harry murmured between hot kisses.

Louis wasn’t one to rush sex. And since he and Harry hadn’t been together in _that_ way for so long; he definitely wasn’t up for a quick fuck for the sake of it. He cupped Harry’s face; thumbs sliding into the shadows of his dimples.

“You know what would really be hot?” He panted. “Dry humping. Like when we were sixteen…”

Harry grinned and chuckled; pressing his body against Louis’ to instigate his idea.

//

“Daddy?” David woke first; just as Louis was milling about upstairs with fresh laundry.

“Yeah?” He poked his head around the bedroom door; finding Layla playing quietly with her rainbow teddy on the floor.

“Up,” David lifted his arms.

Louis smiled.

“Hungry, love?”

David nodded; settling against him sleepily as Louis lifted him out of bed.

“Layla, you coming?” Louis held out his free hand.

“Where’s Dada?” She asked, face solemn.

“He’s sleeping on the sofa, darling. Let’s go and wake him up.”

She smiled and took Louis’ hand.

“Timmy,” she added quietly.

“Yep, you can stroke him, too, he needs a bit of love,” Louis promised.

The living room was empty; Harry having apparently gotten up while Louis was upstairs; and relocated to the kitchen with Kacey who was preparing dinner. Harry was sat at the table shelling broad beans.

“Hey, love,” Louis kissed the top of his head.

“My babies!” Harry smiled at the sight of his children; cuddling Layla first and then taking David while Louis picked up Layla instead to keep her out of Kacey’s way.

“You two are something else,” Kacey teased, rolling her eyes fondly.

Tim trotted into the kitchen at that moment.

“And don’t you get under my feet, Timothy,” she warned.

Kacey tolerated their house-pony but hadn’t entirely warmed to him. Their relationship was a stand-off of stubborn wills and amusing to watch.

“He’s staring at me isn’t he?” Kacey asked; her back to the room as she cooked off vegetables for some kind of pie by the looks of the rolled-out pastry laid on the floury counter.

“Yeah, he is,” Louis ruffled Tim’s fringe, earning his own solemn look. “He stares at everyone, don’t take it personally.”

“He doesn’t stare at me,” Harry piped up, sitting David on the edge of the able; resting his feet on his thighs and holding his waist. “Does he, David?”

David shook his head; grasping Harry’s cross necklace and tugging it slightly.

“Don’t pull that, love, you might break it,” Harry extricated the chain from his fingers.

“Timmy!” Layla piped up; Louis letting her down to approach the pony.

“Don’t harass him,” Louis begged, Layla slowing her eager steps to creep slowly up to him; fingers scrunching into his hair.

“Pretty,” she murmured.

Tim whinnied quietly to himself.

“He pretends not to like it, but he does really,” Harry assured; David now with a renewed grip on his necklace.

“Pony!” She added, giggling as Tim reared his head playfully; trotting in a circle. “Play!”

“Easy, darling,” Louis stepped in to guide her; showing her how to pet the small animal safely. “Don’t pull his hair, alright, Layla?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she nodded, carefully stroking his back.

“Right, anything need doing for dinner?” Louis looked around; David sat amongst the beans and Kacey adding a sauce to her vegetables to make a creamy filling for the pie.

“All good,” Kacey assured. “You two should play with the kids for a bit.”

“Think Harry would prefer to help you out here,” Louis laid a gentle hand against the back of his head. “I’ll take these two into the yard for a spot of football…”

“Yeah!” A chorus of cheers affirmed that idea.

“Lou, don’t get them all dirty before dinner,” Harry pleaded.

“I will,” Louis winked, heading out the back door with the twins in tow.

//

The next morning Harry woke late and slow; brain struggling to remember the details of the day before and parts of it stolen away. The parts he remembered he cherished; Louis and their beautiful children; all of whom he thought about now as he stretched limb by limb; carefully rising out of bed.

He over-balanced a little and grasped the bedside table until he felt steady.

The shower was easier to navigate; Louis having installed a shower room with a seat even though Harry didn’t really need it yet; and hopefully never would. It had served as a great place to have wet; slow sex though; and Harry treasured that particular memory with a warm flush of arousal.

It was quiet in the house as he made it downstairs; tugging a t-shirt on over his sweats; the heating turned down and his naked roaming brought to a reluctant stop.

“Lou?” He called; flipping back his damp fringe and following the tempting smell of food.

He loped into the kitchen; expecting to find Kacey cooking something spontaneous for an early lunch but Louis was there; looking extraordinarily cute in boxers and an apron.

“Light of my life!” Louis beamed; placing his spatula in the pan he was holding and moving to kiss Harry’s cheek.

“Um, hi,” Harry’s brows furrowed bemusedly. “Did I uh…is it our anniversary?”

“Nope,” Louis turned back to tend to his pan.

“Oh,” Harry sighed in relief.

“Sit down, love,” Louis insisted. “Tea, coffee, hand-squeezed juice?”

“Um, juice please,” Harry eyed him suspiciously. “Did you spill paint on my clean washing again?” He checked nervously; remembering the time Louis had been decorating the twin’s bedrooms and had accidentally spilled his tray of paint over Harry’s clean washing when he’d tripped on the ladder in the spare room where the clothing had been piled up.

“Nope,” Louis smiled, triumphantly quirking his brow.

“Okay,” he frowned slightly; deciding to let Louis explain his sudden urge to cook breakfast. “Where’re my little beauties?” He wondered.

“Oh, out for the day,” Louis shared, turning off the heat and fetching plates. He opened the grill section of the oven and drew out a mountain of cooked food. “Kacey took them to Hornsea,” he added by way of explanation.

Harry swallowed.

“Might have been nice to go with them,” he commented quietly.

Louis brought the plates over; doubling back for the pan.

“Are you upset with me?” Louis checked.

Harry avoided his sad blue eyes; guilt rising in his chest.

“No, of course not.”

Louis went to fetch his refrigerated juice.

“I should have checked with you first,” he conceded. “I uh…I actually just wanted to take care of you for the day,” Louis broached. “Like I used to? And I know our kids mean everything to you, love,” Louis winced. “I honestly thought that a day off from it would be okay. I shouldn’t have let them go to the beach without asking you, I’m sorry.”

Harry let out a breath; eyes going over all the food Louis had cooked. He had gone to a lot of effort and one day at the beach without him wouldn’t hurt. He probably needed the rest more than he was willing to admit. He was stubborn like that.

“Have you invited an army to breakfast?” He looked up, lips lilting in a teasing smirk.

Louis relaxed a little, sitting down with his tea.

“Just you, love.”

“Wow…guess I better get started on this lot then or we’ll be here all day…”

“Actually, you have plans for the day,” Louis sipped his tea nonchalantly.

Harry peeked at him over the rim of his glass; the orange juice having a hint of passionfruit and pineapple if he had made the flavours out correctly.

“I do?”

“You do,” Louis nodded. “First, we’re going into town to that tattoo parlour you like to get that piercing you’ve talking about for the last two months…”

“Lou,” Harry smiled. “_Talking_ about, not actually like, seriously getting,” he complained.

“Why not?” Louis wondered.

Harry hid his eyes. He’d been vocalising his inner musings on adding a nipple piercing to his collection.

“Okay maybe we can look at the possibility,” he conceded, cheeks warm with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe that Louis had remembered and _planned_ for him to go.

“Whatever you want,” Louis promised. “No pressure.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed.

“And then we’re having lunch at this beautiful little antique tea-house,” Louis described. “They do an afternoon tea but they’re serving it early just for us.”

“Did you tell them it’s our anniversary?” Harry suspected.

“No, I told them that you deserve to have the very best day and we have _other_ plans for the afternoon,” Louis winked.

“Oh god,” Harry laughed, choking on his hash browns.

“Which brings me nicely onto the afternoon,” Louis broached; nibbling on a sausage.

Harry had never understood why Louis didn’t cut his food up and instead speared things whole only to chew on it awkward and messy; but it was as endearing as it was annoying so he had never asked.

“What are we doing this afternoon?” Harry asked dutifully. “Dare I ask…”

“You, darling sweetness, are taking a long, _relaxing_ bath in the big tub with mounds of bubbles, then I am giving you a lovely _relaxing_ massage and then you’re going to have a nice long _restful _nap in the bed while I make dinner.”

“I see,” Harry speared a section of fried bread, egg and bacon and scooped on beans; chewing messily.

“So, there you go, that’s your plans for today.”

“And my babies will be home tonight?” Harry asked with a soft eagerness that melted Louis’ heart.

“They will,” Louis confirmed.

//

The day rolled out exactly like Louis had planned; Harry deciding to get his nipple pierced after all, and their early picnic-style lunch served poshly with a little bit of fuss over their combined celebrity.

Harry felt spoiled before they even got home for the second half of his treat; lounging in the bath with the twins’ family of rubber ducks; Louis’ subsequent massage tilting on the side of sensuous to warm Harry up nicely; but not enough to have him straining and hard.

Harry felt such love unfurl in his chest for Louis in that moment that it felt overwhelming; Louis tucking him cutely under the covers; a fresh bed set of satiny cream fabric that felt like liquid silk to sleep on.

“Okay love?” Louis checked; fingering his wild hair.

Harry shook his head, biting his lip. Louis’ face instantly changed to express concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Harry blinked, licking his lips.

“Well…I’m in this bed all alone,” he described; lifting his arms from under the covers and sitting up a bit.

Louis smiled knowingly.

“That’s because you’re going to be sleeping.”

Harry shook his head again; threading his arms around Louis’ waist and tugging him towards the bed; hauling him a little to topple him across his lap.

“No, I don’t think so,” he smiled; curling over to kiss Louis; hands supporting his neck and back.

“H-hey,” Louis hitched a breath; fighting the warm swirl starting in his tummy. “You’re ruining the plan.”

“Can I ruin _you_ instead?” Harry enquired; smirking before he leaned in to kiss Louis some more.

Louis gave into the demand of his mouth easily; shifting to find a more comfortable position to kiss Harry back. His eyes flickered open; blue gazing into green.

“Yeah, I think we can change up the plans to accommodate your requirements, _Mr. Tomlinson_,” Louis smirked; knowing the effect it would have on Harry to be called by his married name.

Harry’s gaze turned intense and he growled a bit in his throat as he surged forward to roll Louis beneath him; their mouths meeting in a heated; messy kiss.

Once Harry was encased in his body; tight and hot and a little breathless; he kissed Louis softly; sucking tenderly at his lips.

“Thank you,” he murmured; voice deep.

Louis closed his eyes and arched to take him deeper; hips tilting up to fuck himself on Harry’s heat.

“You are _welcome_,” he panted, thumbs pressing into his biceps as Harry withdrew and fucked back in; lips dragging over Louis’ jaw.

“So pretty, Lou,” he mumbled. “Always so good to me…”

“Remember you said that when it’s my birthday, hm?” He murmured; earning a quiet huff and another thrust; slow and steady; but deep enough to render him speechless and struggling to breathe.

“I will,” Harry smiled smugly; kissing him as he set a slow rhythm; his body slowly catching up to what his mind wanted to do.

Louis let out a pleasured sigh; head rolled back to expose his throat while Harry shuffled up on his knees to grip his hips and fuck him harder. He pressed kisses to Louis’ belly, fingertips digging into the flesh of his thighs to open him up a little more and Harry felt so thick inside him that he had nearly forgotten how good it was when they fucked.

Nearly. Not so much.

Harry was hot and slick and beautiful and he wanted more.

“Maybe I should-“ He gulped as Harry flicked his hips; hard. “Do this more often…”

“Hmm,” Harry’s throat burred the sound; chest heaving as he worked hard to get Louis to his pinnacle; his long fingers wrapping around his stiff dick to help that along.

“Jesus Christ; I think I’m going to burst into flames,” Louis muttered; Harry spearing him over and over again; rougher with each jab.

“Combust,” Harry murmured; flipping his hair back.

Louis took that as a signal to let himself tumble into the fiery feeling in his lower belly; the gentle flexing of his muscles syncing with Harry’s tight fit.

“Lou, fuck, _sorry_,” he whispered, anguished as his body struck deep and quivered; wetness flushing into him as Harry fell on top of him; heavy and weak.

He cried out and squeezed him tightly inside; his own peak spurting between their sandwiched bodies. He sank his fingers into Harry's hair and scrunched the tips against his scalp; smoothing the other onto his broad back.

“Why on earth are you _sorry_?” He mused; a little dizzy and breathless.

Harry moaned; still embedded snugly in Louis’ body.

“Thought I was a bit premature,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to Louis’ shoulder before tucking his head in the crook of his neck.

“No love, I was right there with you,” Louis kissed the top of his head.

“That was pretty amazing,” Harry smiled. “You wanna do me, now?”

Louis smirked; fingers splaying on Harry’s back and star-fishing to make him tremble.

“I want you to go to sleep,” he murmured.

“But we should make the most of our time and—”

“Hubby, I love you very much but I want you to settle,” Louis kissed his temple; stretching to reach the sheet as Harry carefully slipped out of him.

“Just offering in case you wanted to take advantage while I’m _in the mood_,” Harry grumbled; settling back on Louis’ chest.

“Well I love you so…I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

Harry sighed.

“I can hear you,” he conceded with a pout.

“That’s very good, love you,” Louis kissed him again.

“You’ve told me you love me three times.”

“So?”

“So, I need to say it back,” Harry pointed out, lifting his head to kiss Louis on the mouth. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he smiled.

Louis cupped his cheek and rolled his eyes.

“Alright, can you go to sleep now, please?”

Harry shook his head; kissing him for a long, tender minute.

“_Now_ I can go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song credit- Bryan Adams- Heaven


End file.
